


Practical Experience

by patxaran



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Big Bang Challenge, Bittersweet Ending, Bodyguard, Canon Compliant, Drinking, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Humor, Hunters don't settle down, HxHBB17, Kissing Lessons, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, Plot, Romance, Senritsu aka Melody aka Amazing by any other name is still amazing, Slow Burn, Smoking, all about that journey and not about that destination, dating lessons, flesh collectors are so damn evil, hxhbb, just a whole lot of plot, kurta eyes, mafia, post York Shin, pre Chairman Election, scarlet eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-10-28 03:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 142,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patxaran/pseuds/patxaran
Summary: In order to attend a flesh collector’s exclusive ball and learn more about their hidden world, Kurapika has agreed to pretend to date Neon Nostrade. However, his lack of experience frustrates Neon and threatens the stability of their charade. On Senritsu’s advice, Kurapika ropes Leorio into teaching him how to date. But, as Leorio’s lessons progress, he and Kurapika learn more about their feelings for each other than the rules of fake relationships.





	1. Highway to the Danger Zoo

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [［譯］實戰經驗 |Practical Experience (Chapter 19)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12332955) by [betty302](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betty302/pseuds/betty302)
  * Translation into 中文 available: [［譯］實戰經驗 |Practical Experience](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12756912) by [betty302](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betty302/pseuds/betty302)



> Thanks to fish-tetris for beta reading this and constantly reassuring me that my work is not Absolute Garbage. Any typos here are my fault because I have a tendency to go back and rewrite stuff even after it's been checked by my beta.
> 
> I suppose this fic is Leopika-centered spiritual successor to my previous fic "Save the Date".
> 
> Finally: I'm very bad at dreaming up headcanons and fan theories, so I tend to reflect on themes and concepts from the source material through fan fiction. This fic, beyond the romantic aspect, is focused a fair amount on flesh collecting and Kurapika's rise in the Nostrade family, as well as the nature of being a Hunter. It is also sort of a long explanation for how Kurapika becomes the sort of guy we see in the Dark Continent arc, since I felt like making this canon compliant for some reason. (Like Nen, I guess setting yourself loads of restrictions makes your writing stronger? ...Haha yeah I have no idea; I'm just a huge fan of following rules I think.)
> 
> Any questions or whatever, just leave a comment, and I'll respond. Instead of putting rambling notes at the end of the chapters, I've decided I'll just reply to comments instead.
> 
> Whatever you do, the most important is to just enjoy the fic. I hope it entertains. Thank you for reading.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Later on in this fic, some of the chapters can stand alone as one shots. Chapter 19, a flashback of Leorio's in York Shin, has been translated by a fan, [betty302](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betty302/pseuds/betty302) into Chinese. I am honored someone enjoyed my work enough to want to translate it into their own language. Translating is a nice way to practice language, and also, it is very fun. I wish [betty302](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betty302/pseuds/betty302) luck if they ever attempt to translate this entire behemoth fanfic one day.

It was the world’s most illegal zoo. Kurapika had heard of it mentioned often in underworld circles, not for its jaw-droppingly impressive variety of dubiously procured specimens, but rather for the generous discount on passes offered to veteran mafia members and their [biological] families. Neon Nostrade had been planning to visit the zoo for months now, but her personal travel budget had tightened considerably after she’d lost her lucrative clairvoyant powers. It had seemed as if it might take entire years before Neon could visit the infamous illegal zoo of her dreams, until a former client stepped forward and, as thanks for all the speedy fortunes Neon had once provided, gifted the girl a 12-month pass for her and up to three guests. In a heartbeat, Neon had cleared her schedule and packed her bags before setting out with the three most senior bodyguards in her employ.

Kurapika was uncomfortable from the moment they’d arrived. It was the off-season, so crowds were thin and often nonexistent. At times it felt like just the four of them there, alone with all the world’s most dangerous and endangered animals, caged in together with no escape beneath a pale winter sun that poured its light down lazily through the glass dome roof. The zoo was gigantic, alarmingly so. It was located on a remote island and entered through a single, hidden mooring within a manmade grotto. The main grounds containing much of the larger animals had been built within the gaping crater of a dead volcano and then capped with mirrored glass to prevent passing aerial views of its illicit contents. On maps the location was referred to as some sort of government research facility. Due to its remoteness, no-one cared to question if that were true.

Kurapika didn’t take the time to be morally outraged, though he certainly was. First and foremost, he saw the whole arrangement as a massive security risk. He didn’t like that there were no emergency exits to speak of. He disapproved of the condition of many of the cages. For whatever reason, the world had decided that illegal enterprises should also be largely unsafe ones, and this zoo was no exception. Before disembarking from the Nostrade family yacht, they’d been asked to sign a pile of forms absolving the zoo of liability in the case of death or bodily injury incurred by members of their party. And yet, despite this, Neon still tested the limits of her safety. In numerous instances, Kurapika had needed to take it upon himself to subtly steer Neon away from rusted bars and cracked glass panels of questionable craftsmanship and levels of repair. None of it had boded well with him, and each and every suggestion from Neon to “loosen the hell up” and “stop being such an uptight weirdo people are staring” went willfully ignored.

Kurapika would not stop. It was not his job to stop.

Today proved to be Neon’s “lucky” day, however, as a new specimen had arrived to the zoo that same morning. As soon as she heard of it, she stopped blowing raspberries at the butt-faced seals (they didn’t actually have butts for faces, Kurapika reminded her, it was a misnomer; they simply had exceptionally chubby jowls), and insisted that they all go see. Kurapika agreed with reluctance. The seals were harmless and calm, more of his pace because they didn’t do much of anything except look ridiculous. But, Neon was his charge, and as an unintended result of his prodigious skill as a bodyguard, was fearless. Her bodyguards would take care of her. Her trust in them was absolute. Wherever she went, there would always be Kurapika over her shoulder, sighing and adjusting the lay of the chains over his hand as he followed her into the depths of hell itself at a dignified adjutant’s pace to keep up with her excited, girlish skipping.

“What is it, though?” asked Neon with a small groan of disappointment. It’d taken ten minutes to walk here from the butt-faced seals, but the new and mysterious animal appeared to be hiding.

“I can’t tell,” said Kurapika. He frowned as he squinted past the fence and into the shadowy enclosure. Nothing moved except a gurgling, artificial stream. Gray and cream flowered grasses had been planted along its banks, making the hard edges appear softer, dreamlike, as though surrounded by wispy, petaled clouds. “Maybe it’s still going through an adjustment period and they haven’t let it out? Or maybe it got sick and they took it to a vet? Moving in new animals is a process, and sometimes there can be delays depending on the sensitivity of the specimen.”

“But that zookeeper told us it was here,” said Neon in a typical display of not actually listening to a word Kurapika had said. “Where did it go? Maybe if we hit the fence with something it’ll wake up and move, and then we can see what it is.”

“I’m not letting you do that,” said Kurapika as Neon searched around for a stick or large stone. “You don’t know what’s in this cage. They haven’t got the panels up yet. There’s no way of knowing what kind of creature you might be agitating.”

“There’s no way of knowing what kind of creature it is period if it won’t come out,” said Neon. “But if you think it’s dangerous, you and Linsen can hit the fence for me. Senritsu, let them borrow your flute.”

Kurapika looked imploringly between Linsen and Senritsu, his fellow bodyguards. They looked back with small, rueful smiles and shrugged. With a heavy sigh, Kurapika announced the flute wasn’t necessary, and went to take up a broom and dustpan that’d been propped up and forgotten against a nearby cage. He handed the dustpan to Linsen, and together they approached the fence.

“Come out, monster!” shouted Neon as Kurapika and Linsen ran the handles of the broom and dustpan against the rattling chains of the fence. “Where are you? Come out, come out, come out!”

Though he’d been uneasy about it before, Kurapika was for once thankful that there was no-one around to witness the lowering of his dignity as a Pro-Hunter as he was reduced to drawing out some poor, concealed beast that hadn’t asked for this for the amusement of his boss’s spoiled daughter.

“You guys are Hunters. I thought you’d be good with animals,” said Neon sourly, as though reading Kurapika’s mind. Kurapika fought the impulse to remind her that actually, Hunters were good with animals in the sense that they understood them pretty well. He’d already listed for her plenty of good reasons why an animal might not show its face after only just arriving to its new home. That was as far as his ability with animals extended in this kind of situation. Being a Hunter didn’t mean he could control said animal with his mind and force it to do something it didn’t want to do.

Neon was on the verge of suggesting Kurapika endanger himself by entering the cage in pursuit of the unknown animal, when a loud, deep voice like heavy brass horns sounded from a compartment carved into the cliff-like back wall of the habitat.

“Will you stop that damn racket?” shouted the voice. Linsen dropped the dustpan in surprise. “Can’t a creature get some sleep around here? I’ve been seasick for three days.”

From the back of the cage emerged a stunningly beautiful beast with a humanoid upper torso and two sets of duck’s legs. As it waddled towards the fence, Kurapika backed away, stretching an arm in front of Neon to shield her as he brandished the broom before him like a sword. The beast, revealed at last to be an anatra-umana, hopped delicately over the trickling stream, trampling flowers along the way that paled in comparison to its magnificence. Neon sucked in a sharp breath at such captivating grace of movement. It was fortunate Basho hadn’t come along on this trip. The poetry of the anatra-umana’s slightest gesture would’ve shamed him and his Nen ability into utter uselessness, leaving him unemployable as a Pro-Hunter forever after.

Senritsu clutched her heart and openly cried, the pain of such splendor too much for the artist inside her to bear. The anatra-umana belched and scratched its round belly. Kurapika remained unaffected by the display, even as tears of wonder welled up in Linsen’s eyes. Unlike his team, Kurapika knew a thing or two about dangerous beauty. He wouldn’t prove so easily taken by appearances.

“Are you the assholes making so much noise around here?” asked the anatra-umana. Kurapika answered, as no-one else in the party was able to, due to the muted awe that consumed them.

“We thought the habitat was empty,” lied Kurapika. He didn’t wish to anger the anatra-umana, as he knew full well that the fence between them wouldn’t be enough should they incur the beast’s wrath. “There’s aren’t any panels up yet. We didn’t know you were here.”

“And where is here?” asked the anatra-umana. It looked around with a confused but curious expression and stroked its short Franz Josef style beard. “I don’t remember much of the trip.”

“This is a zoo,” said Kurapika. “We’re just visitors.”

“A zoo?”

“Yes.”

“You mean I’m in captivity?”

“Yes.”

The anatra-umana frowned deeply. For a long time it said nothing, only contemplated the situation before it in thoughtful silence. Kurapika, his eyes never straying far from the beast, prodded Linsen sharply with the end of the broom in hopes of bringing the man back to his senses. Linsen came around with a start. He wiped the water from his eyes quickly and stepped away from the fence, back towards Senritsu at a safe distance where the anatra-umana’s beauty would hopefully overwhelm him less.

“I don’t want to live in a zoo,” said the anatra-umana. “Give me that little girl as a captive. Just toss her over the fence, and I’ll work out the rest.”

Kurapika had to physically restrain Neon, who was all too willing to join the anatra-umana in its habitat. She commanded Kurapika to let her go, but Kurapika informed her in a stern voice that this was an order he couldn’t obey. Her protection outweighed her desires, and anyway, anatra-umana were mankillers. Neon argued that she didn’t care if they killed men; she was girl. Kurapika rolled his eyes and assured her that that wasn’t what he’d meant.

“I’m going to tell my father you were cruel to me,” said Neon with a pout as she struggled to escape Kurapika’s grip on her shoulders.

“Your father’s going to take my side on this, trust me,” said Kurapika. He turned to the other two bodyguards, ready to order them to help him escort Neon away, but they were gone. The chains of the fence rattled and he turned back to see his two subordinates scrambling to climb it, telling the anatra-umana to take them instead, that Kurapika couldn’t stop all of three of them together. Meanwhile, Neon whined that it wasn’t fair Senritsu and Linsen got to go into the cage and she didn’t.

“That won’t do, you both are too cumbersome to carry,” said the anatra-umana to Senritsu and Linsen, growing annoyed.

“I’m more portable than she is,” said Senritsu.

“I’m the smallest one here,” insisted Linsen.

“Yes, but she’s the cutest, and that makes her much more pleasing to carry around. You both aren’t cute enough for anyone to care what happens to you anyway.”

Linsen and Senritsu froze in their advance, as though stricken. Kurapika groaned. He swiftly hoisted a protesting Neon over his shoulder and ran. It was unsteady going, but he had to make sure she was facing forward with the anatra-umana out of sight. It was the only way to release her from its sway.

“Get back here!” cried the anatra-umana.

“I’m trying!” Neon called back to it. Kurapika redoubled his pace.

“Bring back my hostage right now, boy.”

Kurapika didn’t answer, just ran. He heard the rattling of the fence increase, and then the clattering sound as it fell. The padding of the four webbed feet of the anatra-umana slapped against the paved walkway with the adorable and disarming sound of a four-year-old excitedly giving the strongest high-five her tiny, chubby baby arms could manage. Kurapika refused to look back. Ahead of him, the few, scattered zoo patrons they passed swooned and fainted at the sight of the determined expression etched on the anatra-umana’s perfect face, like that of a god combined with the most noble bearing of a duck. Kurapika knew it would catch up with them soon. There was no-one fit to help them here, and by the time the zookeepers arrived, it’d be too late. No other choice remained but to stand his ground and fight the beast.

There was an empty transport cage up ahead Kurapika remembered passing on the way over. He rushed to it and deposited Neon inside, leaping out and locking the gate long before Neon had processed what’d happened and risen to her feet. By the time Kurapika finished and turned to face his oncoming foe, the anatra-umana was already upon them. Chains at the ready and broom still in hand, Kurapika entered a battle stance and prepared to fight.

The anatra-umana lunged towards Kurapika’s throat with the speed and precision of a viperlizard defending the jeweled eggs of its clutch. Kurapika launched his counterattack just as swiftly, striking the smooth plane between the eyes of the anatra-umana with the ball of his dowsing chain seconds before the sharp fingers of the beast reached him. The anatra-umana cried out in pain and fell back. Kurapika advanced with the broom poised to strike. Without a moment’s hesitation, he began rapping it against his opponent’s outstretched hands with the force and brutality of a schoolmarm at her very limit of patience. The anatra-umana cowered beneath him and tried to slink away, clutching its injured head with hands that ached just as sharply. It pleaded with him to stop. Kurapika didn’t listen. He continued the barrage of attacks until the two of them were halfway to the anatra-umana’s enclosure once more.

“Please. I was only hungry,” said the anatra-umana in a voice that had lost a significant portion of its once musical charm. “That girl was cute enough to eat. You can’t blame me. I’ve been seasick for three days.”

“Funny, I remember you saying you wanted a hostage, not a snack.”

Kurapika delivered a hard kick to the anatra-umana’s ribs, and it crumpled with the force of the blow.

“You looked too cute to be this strong yourself,” said the anatra-umana, as it eyed Kurapika from a short distance away. It could no longer run. Kurapika had broken two of its delicate duck legs in his assault. Now all it could do was drag itself pitifully out of Kurapika’s easy reach. “I thought I’d have you both for lunch, surely. I thought you had such lovely bones to gnaw on.”

“You picked the wrong menu, beast.”

“Yes. But you know what they say: you eat with your eyes as much as your stomach. Even now, you look absolutely delicious. A feast for the eyes as well as the belly. Hell, I’m dying, and I still want to eat you.”

“You’re not dying. I haven’t killed you yet,” said Kurapika. He no longer advanced towards anatra-umana, as there was no longer any reason to. Blood flowed freely down the creature’s face, its regal nose with its dainty nostrils now considerably less flawless than it had been mere minutes before. Kurapika watched the cringing beast coolly, unmoved even as it began to whimper in a weak, defeated whine. His icy demeanor struck the anatra-umana as hard as any physical blow, and it looked away in shame. It lay still in the leaf-littered path, silent now, waiting for the zookeepers to arrive and deliver it from this hell.

“Wow, you took out an anatra-umana male in full plume?” asked one of the zoo employees after pausing a moment to let out a low, impressed whistle. “Damn. You mean fucker. You must be dead as hell inside.”

“Perhaps,” said Kurapika. He turned away and headed back to where he’d left Neon. The spell of the anatra-umana had broken along with its face, and she no longer bemoaned being separated from it forcibly by her diligent bodyguard. She made no move towards the bloodied and beaten beast after Kurapika unlocked the gate of the cage and helped her down. It was the beast that passed them instead, carried on a stretcher supported by four men.

“You have a strong and beautiful mate, little girl, and the fruit of your union will rule over the endless woodlands of morning as kings.”

It took an awkwardly long moment for Neon to realize the anatra-umana was speaking to her and what it was saying. As soon as the realization dawned, she crinkled her nose and made a short gagging sound.

“Kurapika’s my bodyguard, not my boyfriend.  _ Eww _ .”

The anatra-umana looked at Kurapika in confusion. Kurapika nodded back.

“You’re stupid, aren’t you?” asked Kurapika. “I kicked your ass because I’m paid to. You’d be dead right now if it were otherwise; I swear it.”

The anatra-umana flinched at these words, although Kurapika hadn’t moved except to speak. The men bearing the stretcher continued on to wherever it was the anatra-umana was being taken. Neon looked at Kurapika and made a face like she’d tasted something bitter in the short exchange with the anatra-umana, and it lingered in her mouth.

“You’re kinda uptight, Kurapika, you know that? You seem like a lot of work. I feel really sorry for whatever girl ends up with you.”

“Sorry, miss, but that’s assuming a lot about my personal life which you know nothing about, and which I’m not about to share with you now, or ever. Let’s go find Senritsu and Linsen. They ought to be back to their senses now.”

Neon, in a rare show of concern for her bodyguards, followed after while speculating aloud if Senritsu were okay or not, and how bad she’d feel if Senritsu were in trouble. Kurapika, disheveled but still spotless, collected the broom from the ground where he thrown it in furious triumph after defeating the anatra-umana. From this point on, the rest of the trip was much more sedate. In respect of their personal as well as professional relationship, Kurapika made a point not to remind Senritsu or Linsen of their embarrassing behavior while under the anatra-umana’s thrall. They continued on as though nothing had happened, burying the experience in the past and refusing to look back.

And thus ended the story of how Neon Nostrade first got the inkling of an idea that it actually might benefit her to have Kurapika pretend to be her boyfriend in a pinch.


	2. Enrollment

During her lucrative years as the most trusted and relied upon fortuneteller within the criminal underground, Neon Nostrade hadn’t attended school in the traditional sense, as her mafia connections could’ve endangered her as well as each of her unwitting classmates. Light Nostrade, Neon’s father, hadn’t made a habit of involving himself with many disputes between mafia clans directly, but the same couldn’t have been said of Neon’s clients. To help ameliorate the risk of inadvertently taking sides in any conflict, Light had extended the offer of Neon’s clairvoyant gifts to any and all willing to pay for them, regardless of family affiliation. His official stance in the majority of blood feuds and mafia wars that of total neutrality, though he wasn’t nearly naïve enough to assume this in any way guaranteed his or his daughter’s protection.

As a result, Neon had been homeschool from a young age by the finest tutors, nearly all of them titled professors of the highest intellectual caliber that could be found in the region. They’d come and gone from the estate with the cool metallic clink of the medals and awards hanging from pins on their chests or looped through silk ribbons around their necks. Kurapika had spent more time analyzing their dress, trying to discern the intellectual achievement of merit signified by each award, than he’d spent listening to a word any of them had ever said. Given Neon’s rather lackluster academic performance, he felt certain she’d spent her lessons doing the exact same.

With the tightening of the family budget following the York Shin auctions had come the lowering of Neon’s familiar standard of living, and her costly, decorated professors were among the first luxuries jettisoned. For the first time since she’d been a small girl, Neon found herself enrolled in school. The institution chosen was prestigious and demanded a significant yearly tuition to attend, but its cost paled in comparison to private lessons from the capital’s greatest minds. In convincing her father to make the cut, Kurapika and Linsen had stressed the importance of socialization for someone Neon’s age. As she was no longer mafia royalty, her every whim could no longer be catered to. She’d have to learn to relate to her peers now, as people, because it would only be through her ability to forge relationships and network that she’d once more ascend the social hierarchy. It was the most responsible thing her doting father could do for her to prepare her for the real world.

Light had accepted the change with little persuasion (he would’ve accepted anything to stop hemorrhaging money), and within a fortnight, Kurapika and Senritsu were awake before dawn, banging on Neon’s door and commanding her to get up and ready for school, or else they’d send Basho in to write a haiku about it that would force her.

Although Neon despised walking up before the sun had risen, school itself intrigued her the moment she stepped into her first classroom. While Neon could be spoiled and bratty due to years of getting her way with pouting, her naturally inquisitive nature outweighed her childish insolence. This drove her to face her new circumstances with an eager smile. On the way home from her first day of classes, she’d regaled Kurapika and Senritsu with stories of all the fascinating things she’d witnessed. She was especially tickled to see that, though she'd underperformed in her lessons with her illustrious professors, at school she was actually ahead of her peers in content. She wanted to know why she hadn’t been enrolled two years ahead, and Senritsu told her it was so she could focus more on interacting and making friends. Having to study hard as well as make new friends would’ve been too heavy a load, although she could skip a grade if she really wanted. Her father would understand.

Neon, thrilled at the idea of studying people instead of books, decided not to skip any grades. Her new pastime engaged her so completely that the struggle to wake her in the morning soon ceased, and then, surprisingly, inverted itself. The girl who’d spend the last decade of her life rising at her fancy—if she got out of bed at all—now shot up before her alarm. Oftentimes she’d be ready for school so early she was left pacing in the hall waiting for the bodyguards assigned to accompany that morning to finish their breakfasts. When she was feeling particularly impatient, she’d enter the bodyguards’ apartment wing directly and wait in their common room, shocking Kurapika the first few times by calling his name as he shuffled zombie-like from his bedroom to start his morning routine. After the fourth instance, he’d sharply informed her (with a first-thing-in-the-morning inability to soften his tone) that it didn’t matter how early she got up for school; school always started at exactly the same time. Did she really expect him to hurry and drive her there now, so they could wait forty-five minutes in the dark for the place to open?

The look on Neon’s face in response implied that yes, maybe she did.

“How’s Neon doing in school?” asked Light during a meeting with his daughter’s bodyguards/handlers three weeks into Neon’s new enrollment. “Has she been enjoying herself? Does she have friends?”

“She has plenty of friends,” said Senritsu. “She’s very charismatic, and seeing how many of her classmates also have mafia connections, they know who she is and to treat her with respect. The Nostrade family name is good after your investment in the underground auctions.”

Light cringed at the reminder and cast a glance at Kurapika. Kurapika nodded coolly to him without a word. The financial fallout of the astronomical bid placed on the Scarlet Eyes at the underground auctions was still being dealt with. It was fortunate few people expected such an outrageous amount as 2.9 billion jenny to be paid upfront. No matter who you were, 2.9 billion was a complicated amount of money to move without raising suspicion. Kurapika had taken advantage of this natural delay in the transaction and, leveraging Neon’s loss of clairvoyance as well as hinting at the danger of outraging her cult of dedicated former clients should she become destitute, had succeeded in negotiating a pretty outstanding payment plan. He’d also used the turmoil following the deaths of the Ten Dons to lower the amount to 2.3 billion, plus interest. In this way and others, he’d single-handedly saved the entire Nostrade family enterprise and earned himself a considerable level of power and autonomy concerning the family’s business dealings. In a cross mood, especially if he’d been drinking, Light wondered aloud if Kurapika hadn’t perhaps destroyed the family’s finances on purpose in order to assume partial leadership and force a broken Light into the position of constantly deferring to Kurapika as the family’s savior. Kurapika reassured Light he’d only wished to guarantee his continued employment within a functioning mafia family. The mafia community knew Kurapika had been the one to instigate the bidding war that had nearly ruined the Nostrade branch, and so, Kurapika’s reputation was as much at stake as Light’s. Pro Hunter or not, potential employers were understandably hesitant to hire the hot-headed kid who'd punched the powerful mob boss Zenji in the face. The Nostrade family was all Kurapika had left.

“Have you met any of these new friends of hers?” asked Light. “Has she told you much about them?”

“Ugh, what hasn’t she told us?” said Basho, rolling his eyes. “They’re practically a gang at this point. They sit together, wear the same kinds of clothes, and are the gatekeepers of cool. Right now they’ve got the school on tenterhooks waiting for their definitive ranking of the hottest/coolest guys there. It’s such a big deal that they convinced a math teacher to pay them five thousand jenny, and then told the school that the guy who earned the highest grade on the midterm would be a shoo-in for the list, at least in the top fifteen. The afterschool tutors have never seen so many boys sign up for homework help. That list is the event of the semester. Neon’s inviting the guy at the top to the Moreau Ball.”

Light frowned. “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “I haven’t given her permission to date anyone. She can’t go out with a boy until she’s twenty, and even then, only if he’s been properly vetted first.”

“Really?” asked Senritsu in alarm. “Because about that….”

“Are you about to tell me she has a boyfriend? Against my permission?”

“To be fair, sir, you never informed us…” Kurapika began.

“About what? It should be obvious. She’s too young. She’s still a child.”

“She’s sixteen,” said Kurapika.

“Your responsibility as her bodyguards is to keep her out of harm’s way. Which means you need to keep her away from boys. I don’t need her bringing some loser home because he got a high score on her silly hot and cool list.”

“But then she won’t trust us if we do that,” said Senritsu. “She’ll realize we’re going to tattle on her to you. She might try to hide things from us, which will make it harder to ensure her safety.”

“She’ll understand. Unfortunately you’ve been letting her canoodle with strange boys, so it might be hard to bring her around at first, but in the end she’ll understand my reasons and trust my judgment.”

Senritsu didn’t seem sure Neon would go along peaceably with having limits imposed on her dating freedom. Few teenage girls in the history of humankind had ever gone along peaceably with the restrictions set in place by their overbearing fathers. Kurapika, too, was displeased, but for an entirely different reason that had less to do with his concern over Neon’s rights, and way more to do with his abhorrence to conducting routine night patrols around the estate in order to keep any would-be-Romeos at bay.

“She hasn’t got an official boyfriend yet,” said Senritsu, carefully considering her words. “But you know the moment you tell a child not to do something, that thing becomes more appealing. Especially with a teenager, because teenagers are at an age where they begin to struggle for things like control and freedom and also acceptance. It’s an emotional time for them, and being too firm in your limits implies you don’t trust them to make their own choices. It tells them you think they’re incompetent.”

“Of course I don’t trust her to make her own choices. Of course she’s incompetent. Like you said, she’s only a teenager. You can’t trust a teenager to know what’s good for them.”

Kurapika, a teenager, shifted uneasily in his chair.

“How about we just talk to Neon?” said Light. He pushed back his chair from his desk and rose to his feet. “She’s in her room now. Kurapika and Senritsu, you can come with me and see how she’ll prove you wrong. She’ll be a good girl and do exactly as her father tells her.”

“Prove me wrong?” asked Kurapika. “I only said she was sixteen.”

Light Nostrade wouldn't hear another word. He went out of the study, ahead of Kurapika and Senritsu, and down a flight of stairs to a long corridor lined with priceless works of art and one failed bodyguard. The corridor wrapped around a full wing of the house as it led to his daughter Neon’s rooms, and in long minutes they walked through it, no-one spoke. Occasionally, Light would stroke his mustache as he thought about other, more important things than proving to his bodyguards his total authority over his now mostly useless child. Kurapika watched the middle distance and repressed a tired sigh. Senritsu waited to see how Neon would react once her silly game with her friends was called to a screeching halt by her stringent father.

Neon was in her room, laying on her stomach on the bed and pretending to make a comically cute and chubby duck-billed wolfhound plush and a mountain horned bear plush have an important conversation about the law of conservation of energy. For the mountain horned bear plush, she imitated a voice reminiscent of her previous biology tutor. The duck-billed wolfhound, meanwhile, sounded vaguely like her homeroom teacher, who Kurapika and Senritsu had met at an open house while standing in for Neon’s parents.

“Neon, dear, how was school?” asked Light.

“I didn’t have school today,” said Neon. “It’s the weekend, Dad.”

“Are you studying for a big test?”

“Ducky is teaching Omart how to teach lessons,” she said, holding up the duck-billed wolfhound. “Omart is complaining about how she has to take role everyday and bribe the students to study, and that none of the students are as good as me. I know everything. But I’m also not a jerk about it like Becker, who’s totally not going on our list of cool boys.”

“Ah, well, about that list of boys,” said Light, wasting no time. “You know, Neon, that you’re not allowed to date any of the boys in school. And yet, I’ve been told you’re planning to invite a boy from school to the Moreau Ball.”

“I can’t go alone. I have to bring some boy with me.”

“I’ll find you someone suitable. Someone worthy of being seen with you at such an exclusive event.”

“You’re just going to pick a guy whose dad works with you. Who’s spent more time studying interrogation techniques than conversation, and worst of all can’t even dance.”

“You quit dancing lessons when you were nine. I don’t see how well a boy dances is going to matter.”

“I don’t want to go with a loser I don’t know.”

“And so you’d rather go with a loser you do know?”

“Basically, yes.”

“I can’t have that, Neon. And I don’t like hearing you’ve been talking to boys. From now on, your bodyguards and attendants have orders to keep you from getting too familiar with any young men you may run into outside this house.”

“Whatever,” said Neon. She continued to play with her plush animals as though her father wasn’t there. “Why are you giving me all these pointless rules, anyway?” she asked over he shoulder. “You don’t need to worry, Dad. Just go play golf or something. I’m not going to run off with a boy from school. They’re all boring. I just want to keep one for fun. Also, the bodyguards and servants can’t stop me. You know I can give them the slip no problem.”

“Well, I…,” sputtered Light. He glowered at Neon, not liking her tone, though she hadn’t raised her voice once to him. She spoke calmly, even cheerily. Her cool self-assurance riled her father more than yelling ever could. He looked to Senritsu in exasperation, then to Kurapika. A realization dawned on his face. 

“Well, I’d like to see you give _Kurapika_ the slip.”

The lazy smile on Neon’s lips wavered and then fell. Though she had indeed managed to escape her bodyguards several times in the past, she hadn’t succeeded once while under Kurapika’s watchful eye.

“You wouldn’t. Kurapika’s got more important things to do than watch me twenty-four seven.”

“Not while you’re in school. Not while your personal safety is being threatened by strange boys.”

“Actually, sir,” said Kurapika, stepping forward, “your daughter does have a point….”

“Don’t take her side on this, Kurapika. You work for me, I’m your boss, and right now I’ve decided your primary focus is going to be ensuring the safety of my daughter.”

“It’s already my job to protect her.”

“Yes, but now your specific focus is to keep boys away. We’re men, Kurapika, we know how teenage boys are. We can’t let a single one of them near my daughter.”

Kurapika, a boy in addition to being a teenager, cleared his throat and took a step back..

“Fine,” said Neon, surprising everyone. Her voice was once again pleasant. For some mysterious reason, she was no longer concerned. “Fine. Put Kurapika in charge. You’re right, Dad, he’s probably the best guy for the job. I agree with you that I need protecting from boys, and I’ll definitely feel safest if it’s Kurapika looking after me.”

Kurapika, not for nothing known as the most able and intelligent bodyguard in the Nostrade family’s employ, was immediately suspicious of Neon’s unprecedented agreeableness. Light, however, beamed, happy to have final gotten through to his daughter.

“Excellent. I promise we’ll revisit this topic when you’re twenty. Until then, you’ll be carefully looked after and kept safe.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m so happy you’re looking out for me. Can I go shopping tomorrow as a treat? It’s been so long since I’ve gone shopping.”

It had been exactly a week and two days since Neon had last gone shopping.

“Certainly! My well-behaved daughter can do all the shopping she wants.”

“Actually, sir,” said Kurapika, stepping forward once more.

“If you’re going to ask me to clarify if you’re starting tomorrow, the answer is yes, Kurapika. You should be happy. Shopping with Neon is much easier than patrolling the halls of the mansion and accompanying me to my boring business meetings. Think of it as a relaxing break you’ve earned for all your hard work. Keeping boys away from Neon ought to be easy for you. You’re very good at keeping people away.”

Kurapika sighed. He’d have to stop by the estate office later and figure out the allowable budget for tomorrow’s shopping spree with the family accountant. Then, worst of all, he’d have to go report to Basho and Linsen and the rest of the security staff that his job was now “fend boys off from the boss’s daughter” and endure their snickering ridicule. They’d probably even repeat what Light had already said, but with more mocking awareness to drive the point home: that keeping people away from Neon would come naturally to Kurapika. Kurapika was very good at keeping people away.


	3. Hearts and Brains for Lunch

While Kurapika was absolutely terrific at keeping people away, his friend and fellow Hunter, Leorio Paladiknight, was absolutely terrible at being kept away. Despite what hardships it entailed, he always made sure to keep up-to-date on Kurapika’s life through a veritable network of sources. Ranked from least to most reputable, these sources were: Kurapika himself, the occasional Hunter Association news bulletin pertaining to major known events in the criminal underworld, Leorio’s gut feeling, and Senritsu.

Needless to say, he depended a lot on Senritsu.

“You seem a bit down, Leorio, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should’ve rescheduled.”

Leorio offered a brief, bright smile to Senritsu, assuring her he was fine as he took a seat across the small, metal table. “I’m not down, just tired,” he said. “It’d be a shame to come all this way just to cancel. I just need a coffee, some food, and a moment to catch my breath. Then, I’ll be right as rain.”

Senritsu ordered the desperately needed coffee and a plate of sandwiches for Leorio, along with tea and a slice of cake for herself. An incident on the track at a station twenty minutes from the city center had caused Leorio to run two and a half hours late to their triweekly lunch date. This put the total number of hours he’d traveled that day at six, which explained his haggard appearance. He’d called and told Senritsu to eat without him and then meet him at a café near the city’s southern train terminal. By the time he’d come dragging himself up to the table hours later, he was both ravenous and fatigued to the point that he couldn’t even find words to complain about it. He was also solemn, because the rumor going around about the cause of the incident on the track was that someone had committed suicide by train.

“How’s school?” asked Senritsu. It was the conversational equivalent to turning on the radio when no-one in the car had anything left to say. Leorio was a medical student, and therefore able to talk about school and student life forever, often without even needing to listen to himself speak. On cue, he launched into a rambling update of his application process to different summer programs, complained about having to wait for exams to come around so he could finally test out of a few classes he didn’t need, and confessed to her in a low voice that he’d played the “I’m a Hunter card” twice to gain preferential treatment while registering for classes, even though, as a Hunter, he wasn’t even obligated to attend them all. Apparently that was a perk of being a tried, tested, and certified Exceptional Human Person. People automatically trusted you to be able take care of yourself.

“I skip classes to study even more classes, though, so even though I’m enrolled in six, I’m doing the coursework of twelve because I can sit whatever exams I want in summer. I don’t know why, but I feel really pressed for time about it. I at least got some extra sleep on the way over, before the train was stopped at the Five Gate. Hey, you know the express was a whole 12000 jenny more than the slow train this week? And I bought these tickets three weeks in advance. No wonder Hunters are the only people who travel anymore. We’re the only ones who can afford it, apparently.”

“You should see if the train company will change your return time to tomorrow,” suggested Senritsu. “Then you can stay in my old apartment and relax tonight. Leave in the morning. I’m always at the Nostrade’s house now. We... _lost_...a lot of staff in York Shin, and replacements haven’t exactly been lining up. When our temporary contracts got renewed last month, we were all put on full hours. I barely have time to come into the city anymore. You’re welcome to use the apartment whenever you want. At least someone will be there.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I already rescheduled my return for the last train of the day. Plus, I didn’t pack for a day trip. Speaking of packing, though….”

Leorio placed his perennial briefcase and substitute medical bag on the table before him and opened it. From the main compartment, he removed a narrow, rectangular box, commenting that it’d been a tight fit packing it. The shiny paper covering the box was crinkled, and the bow on top had been flattened after being jostled around in Leorio’s bag. He warned Senritsu looks weren't everything as he handed it over. The contents were still in good condition, despite the abuse suffered by their wrapping.

“What is it?” asked Senritsu, her face lighting up as she turned the box over in her hands. “This is the third time you’ve brought something, and I’m starting to hope it’s going to be trend.”

“What’s this about _only_ three times? I never show up to a date empty-handed,” said Leorio. He motioned to the box dismissively. “Anyway, it’s more sweets. They’re little cakes wrapped in marzipan and chocolate. They keep for ages, and are quite boozy, so don’t eat them on the clock at work.”

“Noted,” said Senritsu. Leorio shut the briefcase with a snap and set it once more between his feet on the floor. “Oh, they’re pretty, too!” she exclaimed after removing the wrapping and looking inside to see two neat rows of matte chocolate cubes with tiny fondant flowers on top. “Do the flowers’ colors mean anything?”

“Yeah,” said Leorio. He grabbed the lid and read the information printed on the underside of it. “The key isn’t written in the Hunter language.” He removed a pen from his shirt pocket and put the lid flat on the table. “I’ll write down what the flavors are. This yellow one, though, I don’t know. This box isn’t one of the assortments they export, so there’s an alcohol here that’s common in the north, but it doesn’t really have a translation. We call it the yellow liquor from Thidra. It’s like a citrusy anisette.”

“Where do you get this stuff?” asked Senritsu in wonder as she wormed her fingers between two of the cakes to remove one and have a closer look. She held it up lightly by its pleated paper cup and admired the delicate iced lace along the edge. “What you bring is always really nice. I know you don’t have money to be buying gifts, though, especially with how much the train costs.”

“I don’t, but these are from a village near my mother’s hometown. My mom knows the niece of the guy whose wife runs the factory that makes them, and so, I’ve got loads of this kind of stuff.”

“Oh, so you’re palming off your rejected Christmas gifts, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. In my country we only give Christmas gifts to children, and on an entirely different day that’s like two weeks after your Christmas anyway.”

“Then why does this have a ribbon on it like it’s a gift?”

“Because it still is one. You bring this kind of stuff when you visit friends and family. My mom, from whom I’ve inherited every ounce of my good looks and charisma, has a lot of friends and people who think of her fondly every winter and spring. Since I don’t live at home, she overloads me with all this candy and stuff when I visit. She tells me to give it away to people I know at school. Or use it to impress a girl or something. Hence why I bring them to you, obviously. Don’t let that cheapen my gifts in your eyes, though. I’ll have you know I save only the choicest items for you and our lunch dates.”

“I believe you. The nougat with the candied flowers you brought last time was so delicious Basho wept when it was finished and wrote a haiku about the pain of his loss beautiful and powerful enough that five whole boxes spontaneously appeared. We ate nougat until we were sick.”

“Your boss must’ve been thrilled.”

“The most senior bodyguard, Linsen, was sick along with us. But, Kurapika got mad and assigned us all extra shifts patrolling the estate perimeter so we could ‘put that surplus sugar energy to good use’. Then he increased that week’s quota of required training hours in the staff gym, too. It was our fault, though. We forgot to save him any. He was out late accompanying Neon to a girl’s volleyball tournament on the other side of the city.”

“The Nostrade girl plays volleyball now?”

“No. She wanted to go to cheer the team on with her friends and then get dinner after. The team won, so the dinner became a party, and Kurapika didn’t get back until midnight. He’s currently trying to convince Mr. Nostrade to give Neon a curfew, but Mr. Nostrade thinks curfews only apply to girls who haven’t got bodyguards to protect them and keep them out of trouble.”

“Poor Kurapika. But hey, at least you guys keep him busy. Neon Nostrade’s not the only one who needs to be kept out of trouble.”

“Neon Nostrade keeps him busier than all of us. He’s her personal bodyguard now. He’s supposed to protect her from boyfriends.”

Leorio choked on the sip of coffee diverting to his windpipe as he failed to suppress a laugh. He sputtered a moment like someone half drowned, and then cleared his throat loudly.

“Is the logic that because he’s only two years older than Neon, he’ll be able to anticipate a teenage boy’s every move? Or are you hoping to recoup the family’s auction loses by running a pool betting how long until Kurapika sends a suicidally persistent seventeen-year-old boy in love with Neon to the hospital?”

“No, the reason is worse. Mr. Nostrade thinks guarding Neon is a vacation now that she’s no longer as important as she used to be in the criminal underworld. He thinks he’s doing Kurapika a favor.”

“I’m assuming with how you said that, that protecting Neon from boyfriends isn’t a vacation.”

“It’s _Kurapika_. Even if it were a vacation, he doesn’t take vacations.”

“Good point. I feel so sorry for Neon Nostrade.”

The food arrived at last, and Senritsu pushed the box of cakes to the side to make room. Leorio replaced the lid and told her to remind him to finish translating the flavors later. He then began to eat, his appetite leaving little room for conversation until he reached the very last sandwich wedge. Senritsu was understanding of this and did the talking for both of them. She told Leorio of new developments at work (at least what she was allowed to reveal), making sure to mention Kurapika wherever he was relevant. Her update involved an abbreviated account of Neon’s trip to the zoo, which she hadn’t been able to tell Leorio about at their last meeting because she’d needed to get permission from Kurapika first. She couldn’t say where the zoo was, or mention certain specimens that were held there, but she was allowed to talk about the anatra-umana. Kurapika had shared the whole story with Senritsu on the trip home, explaining the parts she hadn’t mentally been all there for. When Senritsu told Leorio that the anatra-umana had praised Neon for her exceptional mate choice, Leorio choked again, this time on his sandwich, and made some muttered comment about how the anatra-umana must be a stupid animal. Senritsu cheerily informed him that Kurapika himself had come to the exact same conclusion.

Unlike other lunch dates where Leorio and Senritsu would walk around the city and admire the handful of public monuments and green spaces they knew well, this evening they stayed at the café near the train station, ordering snacks and talking until it was nearly time for Leorio to head out. Senritsu let him know the offer to use her empty apartment was still on the table if he didn’t feel like traveling late. Indeed, next time she’d bring him a copy of the keys, so that any time he was in the city, he could go directly there even if she was busy.

“Thanks for waiting when the train was delayed,” said Leorio as they stood in the terminal, just outside the barrier keeping unticketed passengers from the platforms. “And for staying out so late. I’m always glad you take the time to meet and we can catch up. I like hearing how you and Kurapika and everyone else are doing. It gives me one less thing to worry about.”

“You honestly worry about Basho, Leorio?”

“You got me. But it’s Linsen who keeps me up at night. I just hope he’s safe.”

“Aw. Linsen will be touched. He has no idea who you are, but he’ll be glad to know you’re thinking of him.”

“Well in that case, I redact my sentiments. It’s you, Kurapika, and uh….”

“Basho.”

“… _and Basho_ , who I care about.”

Senritsu smiled and shook her head. “I think you’re kind of sneaky keeping tabs on him behind his back, you know. Even coming all the way out here.”

“Who? Basho?”

“Kurapika.”

Leorio shrugged like it was really nothing. “Well, I’m not that far away. And regardless, I have no choice but to come out here. You can’t talk on the phone without worrying someone’s monitoring it. You’re connected to the criminal underground and all that. I get it. Killua’s told me enough about covert surveillance that I don’t know how I even leave my bedroom anymore.”

“True. But it’s an awful lot of work to go through just to know what Kurapika’s up to.”

“Hey, it’s not all about him. I like seeing you, too. Also, it wouldn’t even be behind his back if he ever kept in touch regularly. Everything I do is behind his back so long as he hasn’t even spoken to me. Gon and Killua answer their phones, or at least get back to me with an excuse. Kurapika, on the other hand…it’s rare. He used to keep in touch really well right after York Shin. But now….”

“You’re telling me one thing, Leorio, but I’m hearing another.”

Leorio looked away guiltily, as though averting his gaze could hide anything from Senritsu. “Whatever you might hear,” he said, “that’s between you and my heart, because the only thing I know is what I’ve told you.” He picked up his bag and turned to face the line of turnstiles that lead to his platform, searching his pockets for his ticket with his free hand. “Remember what I told you about my heart and whatever it says about me.”

“That it says things you don’t mean because it knows things you aren’t ready to know, and I shouldn’t ruin the surprise.”

“Yep. I’d prefer to be struck hard in the face, and far too late for it to do me any good, by all my self-realizations. Even the stupidly obvious ones. Like everyone else. If the brain and the heart were meant to communicate and work together, we’d all be as perceptive to the things our hearts say as you are, Senritsu. But we aren’t, and you must be incredibly frustrated with all of us.”

Senritsu smiled and shrugged and said she was used to it.

“Guess what,” said Leorio once he’d finally fished his return ticket out from deep within his inside coat pocket, “maybe next time I’ll bring more of that nougat stuff. Since it was such a hit.”

“Kurapika will kill us if you let that back into the staff room.”

“Ch’. Typical Kurapika. Expending all of his effort on the symptoms while completely ignoring the cause. Keep an eye on him. He has no idea how to take care of himself.”

“Of course I will. You always ask me to.”

At last Senritsu and Leorio parted ways, one to his train, and the other to call a car that would deliver her back to the Nostrade Estate in an hour. Kurapika would pick her up, Senritsu was sure, as his night was open after a long day in Neon’s ceaseless company. She waited on a bench in the expansive, shadowy atrium of the station’s main concourse, watching the sad struggle of the turtles that lived in the overpopulated botanical garden the station was famous for. Three hundred turtles and counting filled her sensitive ears with their plodding sounds in the artificial pond. Their sickly, beleaguered breaths  whispered like restless ghosts across the rippling surface of the water. She heard one nearby specimen breathe its last and die, unnoticed by anyone but Senritsu in what otherwise seemed to be a near unbroken quiet.

After a moment, Senritsu took the box of cakes out from her bag and set it on her lap. She removed the lid and turned it over, reading the notes written in minuscule handwriting (much neater than one would expect from a would-be doctor) that listed each flavor. Where direct translation failed, there were diligent descriptions, squeezed in along the decorative border where handwritten letters hardly fit.

Senritsu replaced the lid and drummed lightly on the closed box with her fingers. The movements grew softer, slower, as she closed her eyes and reached out with her perfect hearing, capturing and replicating the gentle pulse of the warmest heartbeat she’d ever heard in this city, or any other, as it boarded its train and took a seat. She had no idea when Leorio would allow himself to hear his own heart as clearly as she heard it. Such a big heart had plenty to say, if only he’d quiet his mind and listen.

But then again, perhaps Leorio had a point. Perhaps he tried to listen, but he couldn’t understand, because the brain and the heart weren’t meant to communicate. It was one of the tragedies of being human. Senritsu herself only understood the heart’s language, while missing the vital component of what the mind was thinking. Experience had taught her that this often made her advice as easy to ignore as the heart itself. 

Senritsu kept so many things she heard to herself, especially in touchy matters of love. It didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the sound, however. One of her favorite things to hear was a heart in love. She eagerly anticipated the moment she’d meet Kurapika in the car and he’d ask her about her day in the city. She’d mentioned she’d met Leorio, and the shy, quiet change in Kurapika’s heart at the sound of Leorio’s name would bring a smile to her face. It was such a pleasant contrast to find the sweet sound of unawoken feelings in someone as jaded and withdrawn as Kurapika. It was a sign of warmth he hadn’t yet learned to choke off. Senritsu enjoyed it selfishly, letting it be her own secret between her and Kurapika’s heart until the day his brain finally recognized what it was. Until the day he finally understood why one name could add the slightest of springs to his step while also send him bolting the other direction with an apprehension he didn’t yet understand.

An hour later, the car arrived. As expected, Kurapika sat at the wheel.

“Did you go on a day-trip or something? It’s rather late to be getting back,” said Kurapika as he pulled away from the curb and Senritsu, beside him, finished fastening her seatbelt.

“We didn't go far today. The train was delayed.”

Slowly, the familiar sound within Kurapika began. “We?” he asked, as though his heart hadn't already guessed.

“I thought I told you,” said Senritsu. She shut her eyes to better catch the sweet, shy melody over the rumble of the car and the road rolling past. “Leorio was here to visit.”

“Oh,” said Kurapika quickly. “Oh yeah. I guess you did.”

Senritsu smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An artwork for the Hunter x Hunter Big Bang was created for this chapter by tumblr user [warweiner](http://warweiner.tumblr.com). You can find it [here](http://warweiner.tumblr.com/post/161456733179/my-pieces-for-the-hxhbb17-patxaran-thank-you). It's two pieces: an illustration of Neon and also the scene at the end of this chapter where Senritsu is listening to Kurapika's heart in the car after she tells him she just met up with Leorio. I am so proud to have led to the contribution of more Neon and Senritsu art to the world.


	4. Honey We Can’t Afford to Look This Cheap

It was now Kurapika’s daily responsibility to accompany Neon Nostrade on the drive to and from school. He also joined her on her shopping trips and on visits to her friends’ houses. Wherever Neon went, Kurapika followed after, betraying no outward emotion, although deep down in his heart where only someone like Senritsu could read it, he sulked. 

Kurapika’s fellow bodyguards still took rotating shifts between guarding Neon, her father, and the Nostrade Estate. Kurapika was incessantly reminded of it, as he was the one who organized and updated everyone’s schedules by hand on the two-week calendar in the common room. It was a task that normally soothed him, as Kurapika was a great fan of puzzling out schedules and keeping things running smoothly. But, in a small way, the routine of writing schedules down had changed, because Kurapika now made sure to put aside a few seconds of muted despair each time he wrote his own name, substituted afterwards by ditto marks, in the same spot, forever, permanently affixed to Neon Nostrade.

Though Kurapika had always been unceasingly polite and professional in the majority of their interactions, he and Neon had never particularly cherished the time they’d spent together. All they’d done was exist in proximity to each other, hardly speaking, and that had been perfectly normal. Everyone knew Neon’s favorite bodyguard was Senritsu, even if Neon did occasionally abuse Senritsu’s kindness and trust by skipping out while under her protection. As for the other bodyguards, Neon barely remembered their names. The only ones she ever got right were Basho, Kurapika, and Linsen, but this was only because they’d been employed so long, and for a month had been her only security staff while the dust had settled following the events at the underground auctions.

“Do you want to know why I picked you, Kurapika? Why I agreed with my father that you ought to be the one to chaperone me everywhere?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” said Kurapika. He and one of Neon’s two attendants were currently standing in for glorified cloths racks outside of Neon’s dressing room while she tried on what Kurapika imagined to be every item sold in the shop.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? I remembered you’re only a few years older than me. If anyone can understand me in that whole, crazy house, it’s you. You could be a boy at my school, you know that? Did you ever go to school, Kurapika?”

“Not really, no.”

“Were you tutored like I was?”

“No.”

“What? Then how do you know anything?”

“I’m a self-starter.”

One of the sleeves stapled to the dress Neon was trying out began to slip, leading to a discussion about it between her and the attendant inside the dressing room. Kurapika shifted his weight between his feet as he waited. The attendant who was outside with him looked over and smiled kindly. It provided Kurapika with a fleeting touch of perspective. No matter how much he disliked accompanying Neon shopping or on different errands all over the city, her two attendants had to care for her from the moment she woke up in the first hours of morning, to the moment she shut her eyes to sleep in the dark of night. Kurapika at least got full, guaranteed personal days specified in his contract. Neon’s attendants, on the other hand, practically lived for her.

“I’m betting you’re not nearly as much of a jerk as you seem,” said Neon as she emerged from the dressing room to check how she looked in the larger mirror outside. “I’m sure that’s just an act to make you seem serious and tough. Deep down, you’re probably super chill.”

“I’m very serious about my job,” said Kurapika. “It’s not an act.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have to be so stiff, okay? And you’re only like two years older than me, right? We should be friends.”

“Don’t take this personally, Miss Nostrade, but I’m not all that interested in being your friend. This is my job. I’m at work right now. Whether or not I’m your friend is irrelevant to me performing the duty I’ve been assigned.”

“Don’t be so mean, Kurapika. It feels like you don’t like me.”

“My personal opinion of you is something that will never matter. It’s best you don’t worry about it.”

“That’s your cagey, diplomatic Kurapika way of saying you don’t like me at all.”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“Well, that’s good enough, I guess.”

Kurapika wasn’t sure if Neon was referring to him, or to the dress she was wearing. She soon disappeared back into the dressing room to change into something else. Before shutting the door, she informed Kurapika and her waiting attendant that they’d be leaving shortly; she’d seen all she wanted to see. Kurapika took the cue and began separating the items draped over his arms so Neon could make her final decision as easily as possible.

“I want these,” said Neon, selecting five dresses and holding them out to Kurapika.

“We can’t buy five dresses, Miss Nostrade,” Kurapika reminded her. “We’re on a budget. Put two of them back.”

“I can’t. They’re all perfect for me and just my style. Do you know how rare it is to find something that matches my style?”

“You seem to find something you like in every store we visit.”

“Every store? More like every other store.”

“Put two of the dresses back. It’s three new dresses a week. That’s your father’s order.”

“Please, Kurapika. Please please please let me get all five? I can’t possibly choose two to leave behind.”

“Okay. Fine.”

“Really? Thank you! I knew you only seemed stuffy and bossy. I was right about you. You’re really a nice, understanding guy. I’m so happy.”

“But next week you can only buy one dress.”

“YOU MONSTER.”

Neon threw down all five dresses in a huff and stormed out of the shop. Kurapika passed the clothes in his arms to a shop assistant and hurried after her while her attendants trailed behind and made gracious apologies on their master’s behalf. What followed was ten whole, tedious minutes of talking Neon down from her tantrum. This was a much more difficult task now than it had been previously, as in the past her handlers could’ve called her father as a last resort and had him promise Neon heaps of expensive gifts to keep her happy. No-one was invested in keeping Neon 100-percent happy every minute of her life now, however, as Neon could no longer leverage the threat of breaking an entire month’s fortunetelling commitments if she didn’t get her way.

The fact still stood that Kurapika and Neon’s attendants couldn’t have Neon throwing a fit in a crowded shopping street in full view of passerby, either. The Nostrade family needed to give the appearance of confidence and control now more than ever. Neon’s learned childishness and temper, which until a short time ago had always got Neon her way, might be perceived as a crack in the family’s strong front, a sign that beneath the tenuously maintained appearance of strength, the family was secretly struggling to support its leader’s own biological family, and by extension, the wider network of his criminal family.

A small crowd had begun to form as Kurapika and the attendants neared the ten-minute mark of trying to negotiate with Neon. Kurapika began to think faster. It was impossible to remind Neon that the true reason she couldn’t have all five of her dresses was because such an expense hadn’t been budgeted for her this week. The mention of money problems was verboten, as it was impossible to know who was listening or how they might interpret the information. And yet, as the useless thought of money crossed his mind anyway, it struck Kurapika that perhaps an exchange wasn’t the answer. Like idiots, they were trying to buy Neon’s good mood, to bargain with her over things she might be allowed to buy later if she’d only behave now, despite all of them knowing such promises were so empty they echoed. That useless approach needed to be thrown out and replaced. With what, Kurapika wasn’t completely sure, but he had to try something.

“Do you want to see a trick?” blurted Kurapika over the pleading attendants. He wasn’t sure what his plan was exactly. The shape of it was in in his mind, but the details had yet to be sussed out. To his surprise, Neon paused. Her furious expression relaxed as she became intrigued at the idea Kurapika—cold and friendless, boring Kurapika—might perform a trick.

“What?”

“Would you like to see a trick I can do?”

Neon dried her cheeks stained with tears of anger. She’d forgot the dresses in an instant, amazed that her dullest bodyguard was in some aspects like a dog that could be commanded to perform for her amusement. This didn’t change the fact he was still Kurapika. As quickly as she’d become intrigued, Neon grew wary of how entertaining any trick Kurapika knew would actually prove to be.

“Is it going to be something aerobatic?” asked Neon, crossing her arms over her chest and feigning only moderate interest in the offer. “I already know you bodyguards can do backflips off roofs and climb walls. It’s not that impressive.”

“No, it’s kind of like a magic trick,” said Kurapika. Neon’s eyes widened in gleeful surprise at the mention of magic. “It’s not flashy, but it’s the trick I used to find you when you ran off during the auctions in York Shin.”

“Wait, you mean you actually have magical powers to track me down?” asked Neon in stunned disbelief. That would definitely explain a lot about why Kurapika was such a pain in the ass for a bodyguard. “Is that why I can never get away from you?”

“Actually, no. You’ve never got far enough away from me that I’ve had to use this skill for myself,” said Kurapika. Neon pouted, but it was true. “However, all the times you’ve given your other bodyguards the slip for longer than fifteen minutes, they’ve called me, and I’ve used this to help them find you again.”

“And _that’s_ why it’s been so hard to get away from you guys since the auctions? I just thought losing my ability to tell fortunes made me easier to find, or something. Or my dad had you put a chip in my neck.”

“No. It was me. There’s no chip in your neck or anything.”

What Kurapika didn’t say was that he and his team hadn’t yet hired an Emitter capable of tagging a person with Nen in order to track their every movement.

“Fine, what’s the trick?”

“First, go back inside and finish picking out the clothes you want. People will talk if you run out of shops in tears without buying anything.”

Neon’s mood radically transformed at the prospect of witnessing Kurapika do a magic trick, and she hurried back into the shop. She barely even looked at the dresses she wanted, grabbing the first three off the top of the pile and taking them to the counter so they could be rung up. In moments, everything was paid for and folded away neatly in glossy paper bags. Neon asked if Kurapika needed a lot of space to perform his magic trick. Kurapika said he only needed a city map large enough to cover a person’s lap. Smaller than that would be too imprecise.

“Where are we going to find a map?” asked Neon. “Who uses maps anymore?”

“I keep one in the car, just in case.”

“Just in case what? You have to find me?”

“Not really. In case I get lost and don’t have a GPS.”

“I beginning to think you grew up in a time capsule, Kurapika.”

“I suppose in some aspects you’re right.”

Kurapika called the car to pick them up at an agreed upon and secured location further down the street from the shop where Neon had lost her temper. Once inside the car, Neon made Kurapika get the map from the driver and then sit alongside her. Their next stop was a trendy café near the edge of the city where Neon wanted to eat sweets and play with the minksquirrels that roamed the premises freely. It would take fifteen minutes until they arrived, plenty of time for Kurapika to perform the magic trick.

“I want to preface this demonstration with a reminder that I am not a performing monkey, and you will not be able to request I utilize this skill to entertain your friends,” said Kurapika once the map was on his lap and opened to the neighborhood where they were headed. “If you try to do so anyway, I will feign ignorance and say things like ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Miss Nostrade’ and ‘I think you’re tired and need to go home now, Miss Nostrade’. And then I will force you to go home and tell everyone who calls you that you’re sick and won’t be able to see them for a week. Thus, to make things simple and to safeguard your social life, I would suggest we keep my trick between us.”

“Way to take the fun out of a magic trick,” said Neon. “I don’t even know if the trick is cool or not yet.”

“It’s not actually much of a trick, it’s more of a skill. An ability. Plus, I never said it was cool.”

“Oh my god, it’s going to be lame isn’t it? Is the trick that you tricked me into watching something stupid?”

“No. Okay, well, maybe it’s a little cool.”

“Awesome. Then hurry up and show me already.”

Kurapika nodded and then covered his right hand with his left. He concentrated the flow of his aura to his extended right ring finger. There was a soft clink as a line of delicate chains slid free and descended from his hand. He caught the round ball at the end of the dowsing chain and held it back against his arm so that it wouldn’t swing freely. Finally, he gestured with his eyes towards the map.

“You said your friends Lora and Fedrik were going to meet us at the café, so they should be around this area of the map. I am going to locate them for you.”

“Wait, what?”

Kurapika didn’t reply, but held out his hand and lowered the chain until it extended downwards in an unnaturally rigid line perpendicular to the surface of the opened map. As though affixed to a steel rod, the ball on the end didn’t sway and or jump at any bump in the road. This alone impressed Neon and brought a pleased smile to her face. When the chain finally did come to life, its movement was off to the side and positioned at an angle clearly undetermined by the acceleration of car.

“Fedrik is a 23 Branduardi Street.”

“That’s the café. He must be there already waiting for us.”

“He’s early.”

“That’s sweet.”

“I’ll check for Lora next.”

Kurapika let the chain fall perpendicular to the map again. In a moment, it was moving, but in a new direction, towards the east. It was soon directing them out of the neighborhood Kurapika had opened the map to, and Neon scrambled to unfold more so Kurapika could follow where the dowsing chain was taking him. He ended at an address he knew, but hadn’t expected.

“Did Lora tell you she’s not coming? She’s at home. It’ll take her a half hour to get the café from there. Has she contacted you at all?”

Neon shrugged and looked down at her phone. “I dunno,” she said. “I don’t see any messages. See?” She held up the phone for Kurapika to read the list of all her recent conversations. None of the unread messages were from Lora.

In an instant, Kurapika suspected Neon was lying about something. For one, she’d never volunteered her phone screen to him so readily without Kurapika requesting it. He hadn’t been about to ask her now. For two, her father had only allowed her to talk to Fedrik Rozas in the presence of other girls and friends in odd numbered groups. Fedrik’s father was a boss of his own growing clan, as well as a famous high-roller in mafia casinos. His son and Light’s daughter together would stir up rumors about the politics behind the union. Neon and any boys as similarly well-connected as Fedrik was therefore utterly prohibited. Light Nostrade didn’t want people like Rozas Senior mistaking the children's arrangement for an invitation and rolling up looking for a new business partner.

Kurapika acted quickly and began dowsing for the truth instead of Lora’s location. He didn’t bring it to Neon’s attention.

“Maybe you should send your friend Lora a messaged to ask if she’s still going to see the minksquirrels with you today. She might’ve got caught up in something and forgot to tell you.”

“I’m sure she’s just running late. She’s probably getting dressed and lost track of time. I’m sure we’ll arrive at the café right as she’s sending me a message apologizing. She’s kinda forgetful.”

“Didn’t she win an attendance award for never once being tardy to class in three years? It’s hard to believe someone like that is so forgetful of the time. Or is she only ever on time at school?”

“What are you saying?”

“Did you maybe forget to invite her?”

“You think I didn’t invite her?”

“Yes, or no, Miss Nostrade. Did you invite her?”

“Of course I invited her. I know I’m not allowed to hang out with guys like Fedrik alone. Are you implying I set this up to go on a date with Fedrik behind my dad’s back?”

Kurapika let the dowsing chain go slack. He already knew what the frenzied gyration of the ball’s movement was telling him. Neon was lying to him, and not even very well. The added measure of the dowsing chain itself had pretty much been unnecessary. He released his concentration of aura and the chain slinked away into nothingness up his sleeve.

“Message Fedrik Rozas and tell him you can’t make it to coffee. Blame your father if you want. Or me. I don’t care who.”

“Do you seriously agree with my dad that I can’t talk to guys until I’m twenty-years-old?” demanded Neon. “I’ve had boyfriends before, you know. I’m not an idiot. I know what boys are like.”

“It’s not a question of whether I agree with your father or not. I’m following my orders. Please let your friend know you won’t be able to see him today.”

“But we’re almost there.”

“Proximity to your covert coffee date doesn’t grant you permission to go on it anyway. We’re turning around.” Kurapika gave an order to the driver to head to the Nostrade Estate. “I’ve only suggested you cancel with Fedrik as a courtesy to him. You can stand him up, too, if you want. Regardless, we’re going home.”

“But can’t you imagine what it’s like?” asked Neon. She turned away with a dramatic sigh to watch the glint of the rhinestone-studded case of the phone resting in her hands. Kurapika knew she was trying to paint a despondent image in order to gain his sympathy. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

“You’re free,” said Neon miserably. “You can go where you want and date who you want, and you don’t have to wait until you’re twenty. You don’t need anyone’s permission. But my father won’t let me be a sixteen-year-old.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Like hell you are. All you ever do is exactly what you’re told. You don’t give a fuck about anything else.”

Neon so suddenly and easily swearing at him took Kurapika by surprise. Her high, childish voice had grown deeper and coarser, creating a grumbling sound he was totally unfamiliar with. He wondered where she’d learned to say such things. He then realized that, in asking himself where Neon had learned to say such things, he sounded exactly like her father. Light’s infantilizing perception of his daughter had started to pollute Kurapika’s own perception of her. Kurapika knew that Neon wasn’t her father’s uncompromisable, idealized image of her. Neon was a sixteen-year-old girl itching for her own autonomy. Unfortunately, she was in a position where her choices affected more than just her, which meant she had to be controlled before anything she did reflected badly on her father, or even worse, her father’s “family”.

“I’m actually sorry about it,” said Kurapika again. “Really. But this is my job. I can’t be your friend. I can’t help you go behind your father’s back. I’m in a position of trust, and your father trusts me to protect you from those things that he, either wrongly or rightly, perceives as threats. I can clearly see that you don’t agree with him. I can see that you feel like you’re missing out and being subject to unreasonable limits on your freedom to live your life as a normal sixteen-year-old girl, but I can’t do anything about that. You can’t be a normal sixteen-year-old girl, Miss Nostrade. If you were normal, you won’t even have annoying bodyguards like me following you around anyway.”

Kurapika expected Neon to start yelling, to start taking out her hair accessories and throw them at him in protest, which he’d seen her do to Linsen after Light, fearing his daughter’s temper, had sent a bodyguard to tell her that she now had a weekly allowance instead of a blank check to go shopping with. At this moment, however, Neon was not overcome with rage. Instead, she was quiet and still. Her eyes remained lowered, watching her knees and the glittery nails of her thumbs resting on the dark screen of her phone.

“I get it,” said Neon finally. This was said in another new voice, one that was soft and sadly resolved to its fate. “Not many guys really want to be my boyfriend anyway, and I’m pretty sure Fedrik Rozas was just trying to get close to me for his dad. You’re right to not let me see him. Honestly, I don’t even like any of the boys at school. I didn’t even like the ones I went out with before my dad put you in charge of keeping my immediate area a boy-free zone. But also, I kinda don’t want to be a loser without a boyfriend. It’ll be weird. I’m too cute to be single.”

“No-one’s too cute to be single; that doesn’t make any sense,” said Kurapika. Neon made a disbelieving face, openly questioning what Kurapika even knew about such things. “Anyway, if you don’t want a boyfriend, then don’t make yourself get one. It’s not hard.”

“Easy for you to say. No-one even likes you. I bet you haven’t even had a girlfriend.”

“No, I haven’t.”

Neon lowered her phone and turned to look at Kurapika in amazement. “Wait, really? Are you for real?”

“Does...it matter?”

“But you’re not a hideous loser. I mean, you’re boring and you’re a jerk, yes, but it takes a while to realize that stuff when you start dating someone. How the hell are you asking girls out? Because, I’m sorry, but a 100-percent failure rate is really high, so you need to reevaluate your approach or something. Or do you only go for girls way out of your league? You definitely seem like a guy who aims way too high.”

“Girls can’t exactly accept or decline a request I’ve never once made.”

Neon was so besides herself she nearly fell out of her seat. Only the seatbelt Kurapika always badgered her into using kept her upright as her entire upper body went limp with incredulity. “You can’t be human. You mean you’ve never even asked a girl out? How can you say that and not even blush, Kurapika?”

“Because I’m not ashamed of it. Anyway, I’ve told you too much already. I’m trying to be nice because I know you don’t like having me watching you all the time, and you’re upset your father isn’t going to let you date until you’re twenty. But this is as far as the discussion of my personal life goes. You already know way more than you’ll ever need to. Way more than you ever should’ve.”

“But now I want to know more,” pleaded Neon. She was back to her regular self and beaming at this new game that had just turned up in her life. The name of the game, because nothing made a mission more fun than a codename, was “Kurapika’s Secrets”. In a single day she’d learned three exciting new things about her tireless and greatest killjoy of a bodyguard. One, he could do magic tricks with the weird chains on his hand. Two, he could actually be something approaching nice if he felt bad enough for someone. And three, he’d never had a girlfriend, had never even tried to get one, and on top of that was boldly unashamed of himself for it.

“I feel like we’re going to be friends, Kurapika. I think we’re really going to get to know each other.”

“I’ve already stated that I have zero interest in being your friend, Miss Nostrade. Don’t invent things that aren’t real.”

“In that case, if not as a friend, then at least as the nice guy you were a second ago who felt sorry for me: Please maybe don’t tell my dad about Fedrik?”

“I’m under no orders to report back to him every boy you speak to or have tried and failed to date under my watch. There’s no reason to tell him anything.”

“Awesome, Kurapika!” cheered Neon in gleeful approval. She took up her phone and began searching through it, presumably for Fedrik’s number so she could notify him that the date was cancelled. “I feel way more chill around you now. Maybe having you watching me all the time won’t be so bad. Maybe it’s even a good thing? Who knows? We’ll see, won’t we? This is great. You’re cool, Kurapika. I knew it. I was so right about you.”

There was something still wrong what Neon was saying, some vague hint that she was plotting some othermove. Kurapika narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t say a word. Knowing Neon, she was going to start setting up false dates left and right, trying to force him to slip up and let her go on one. Kurapika held back a tired sigh and continued monitoring their surroundings, both inside the car and out of it, as they headed home on the long, forty-five minute drive back to the Nostrade Estate. He couldn't let his guard down for an instant, not around Neon Nostrade.


	5. Never in a Thousand Years but Now

None of this was what Kurapika had had in mind an hour ago in the car when he’d suspected that Neon might be plotting something that would make his job as her personal bodyguard infinitely more difficult. True to his word, Kurapika hadn’t said anything about Fedrik Rozas, even as they’d come across Light first thing after entering the main hall. Light had commented in passing that they were early, and Kurapika had deflected with a statement about Neon buying three dresses, although her shopping had nothing to do with their timetable. Light hadn’t cared. He’d nodded and continued on his way to his office. A few steps later, to his and Kurapika’s surprise, he’d been forced to stop due to the sudden appearance of his daughter as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and cried.

Right then and there, Neon confessed the entire situation with Fedrik Rozas. Kurapika gaped at her in stunned silence, but fortunately, Neon didn’t mention his indirect promise not to tell her father about what’d happened. Instead, she focused on Kurapika cleverly figuring out her plan and stopping her. She made this feat sound much more impressive than it’d been, as though Kurapika had literally ripped Neon from the beguiling Fedrik’s arms and, deaf to her protests as she remained trapped under the insidious Casanova’s spell, brought her directly home. It was only due to Kurapika’s unflappable sense of duty and his devotion to her father that he’d been able to ignore Neon’s desperate pleas, and for that, in hindsight, she was thankful.

And Neon was incredibly thankful. She was thankful, because, as she put it, she’d just now begun to realize how irresistible the temptation to have a boyfriend was for her. Due to his icy refusal to allow Neon’s emotions get in the way of his job, Kurapika had saved Neon from herself and a decision that would’ve spelled trouble for her as well as her father. In addition to this, on the drive home, he’d lectured her on all the logical reasons she needed to avoid hurting her father. Kurapika himself couldn’t remember speaking in half as many words as Neon then proceeded to put into his mouth. Apparently he’d convinced her to be less selfish, to think of her father first, and to accept that Light knew and wanted only the best for her.

Basho, who was guarding the front of the house and therefore close enough to hear everything Neon was saying, shot Kurapika an appraising look and slowed his lap around the landing at the top of the stairs. Kurapika rolled his eyes and shook his head at Basho, annoyed that Basho had actually entertained the idea that anything Neon was saying was true.

Light, meanwhile, flustered and perturbed by his daughter’s rush of emotion, excused himself and Neon to the study. He ordered Neon’s attendants to drop Neon’s shopping bags off in her room. He also asked Kurapika to bring them something to drink. Kurapika wouldn’t look Light in the eyes as he obediently went to fetch glasses and a pitcher of water. Light told him to make sure to bring three glasses, one for Kurapika himself, because Light was going to want to talk to Kurapika and Neon both.

“What’s going on?” asked Basho in a hushed voice after racing down the stairs to join Kurapika on his way to the butler’s pantry.

“I have no idea. She’s lost her mind. I think she’s trying to get revenge on me for not letting her go on a date.”

“But she said you were awesome.”

“Too awesome. Something’s up.”

What was up, Kurapika discovered a neatly arranged tray of ice water, lemon wedges, and exactly three tall glasses later, was that Neon had realized she needed to be more proactive about her problems with the insatiable advances of teenage boys. To prevent herself from letting her poor judgment lead her to catastrophe, she needed to have a stand-in boyfriend her father approved of. Perhaps this seemed counterintuitive, but in reality it was the best defense one could devise. Neon echoed her father’s conviction that sixteen-year-olds had no true concept of romantic love, and that relationships in the teenage years were heady, hormone driven affairs born from boredom and a blind need for peer approval. Teen relationships were social measuring sticks visibly legitimizing a person’s claim to coolness through the fact that another person was willing to date them. Therefore, Neon recognized that she wasn’t desperately seeking a boyfriend because she had any notion of falling in love with a boy, but in reality was merely responding to peer pressure and the need to fit in.

With all this in mind, it didn’t really matter who Neon dated, did it? All she needed was the status of having a guy around who smiled at her and took her on dates. Why couldn’t she just find someone who could do that, then? Someone who could act as her boyfriend and give her social status, while also ensuring other boys would leave her alone because she was taken?

Light wasn’t immediately convinced. He begged to know where anyone he’d ever approve of could be found. Maybe Neon’s plan was alright in theory. He understood her reasoning, as it mirrored much of his own. That didn’t make what she was proposing feasible. Not unless she was hoping her father would invest in the creation of a robot she could date or some ridiculous thing like that.

Neon hadn’t been thinking along the lines of a robot at all. Actually, she had a few candidates in mind who might make suitable “acting boyfriends” for her, if her father would hear them. Light begrudgingly agreed. Kurapika, meanwhile, stared in silence and waited, already guessing the result as Neon pretended to consider and list her options. Her father, predictably, shot down every mention of a boy from her class, even those without strong mafia connections, and along last, hemming and hawing like it hadn’t been on her mind since the car an hour ago, Neon finally suggested her true candidate: Kurapika.

Light said nothing for a long time.

Light looked at his daughter. He looked at Kurapika. He looked again at his daughter. He pushed his chair back a few inches and then considered both simultaneously. At long last, he made a sound, and it was to clear his throat. He fixed his eyes on Kurapika.

“I mean, you’re already her bodyguard, so you’ll be with her most of the time anyway.”

“No,” stated Kurapika firmly.

“I’ll pay you time and a half.”

“I decline. Perhaps you should pick a harmless boy in her class, and I’ll keep an eye on them for you when they’re together.”

“No, a boy in her class has a life outside school and dating my daughter. He could be taken in by the police, or by other criminal groups. I don’t have the money to hire spies to keep him in check. You, however, work only for me.”

“It’s not the sort of work I signed up for. This arrangement makes me…uncomfortable.”

Light Nostrade nodded deeply and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes, allowing Neon and Kurapika enough time to fire glances at each other across the coffee table. Kurapika’s glance carried the unyielding coldness of a stern and justified reproach. Neon’s involved rolled her eyes and mouthing the words “what’s your problem?”, and then stopping quickly because the attitude in her head movement had caused the metal accessories in her hair to jingle.

“Is there something in particular that makes you _uncomfortable_?” asked Light. A growing cloud of distrust descended about him, his pale, gray face the only thing visible from within its darkness. Kurapika met Light’s eyes and saw an uneasy wall of suspicion was being bricked over the space between them. “Are you worried you won’t be able to remain professional while dating my daughter? Is there something I should know? Perhaps about you both? I’m beginning to suspect this might be a ruse.”

“I have no interest in your daughter, Mr. Nostrade,” said Kurapika hurriedly, indeed almost beseechingly. “My only investment in her fate is to protect her from bodily harm. I don’t care if she has a boyfriend or whether or not she’s popular at school. Those things about her life don’t concern me. The only parts of her life that do concern me are that she’s alive and, as of my recent change in assignment, that she doesn’t spend time with boys. That’s all. I don’t need to care about someone I’m paid to protect. I’m not her nanny. I’m not even a friend. I’m only her bodyguard. You can replace her with a egg, and I’d feel exactly the same.”

“You’re a jerk, Kurapika,” said Neon. “Dad, forget I suggested him. He thinks I’m equivalent _to an egg_.”

The shadows around Light dissipated. He smiled at Neon and reached out to pat her on the head. “No, actually, I think this solidifies his candidacy. Eggs are delicate and easily crushed. It takes a lot of work to protect them.”

“Dad, he called me an egg. I’m offended. It's probably an insult wherever he's from.”

“It was just an exaggeration, Neon. Daddy put him in a tight spot.”

“Well, I don’t want some weirdo who compares me to an egg to pretend to be my boyfriend. He doesn’t even like girls. He’ll be terrible at it. Imagine me taking him to the Moreau Ball….”

Kurapika drew in a sharp breath at the mention of the Moreau Ball, the grandest mafia social event in modern times, held biannually on a remote island somewhere in the Moreau Sea, unreachable without a proper invitation due to what Kurapika knew to be a devastating powerful Nen barrier surrounding the venue. He’d been striving to gain an invitation for Neon to bring a friend as well as a date, as otherwise he wouldn’t be able to accompany her inside the house where the ball was held. The owner and host, Dr. Moreau, was a renowned collector of body parts, just as Neon had been when she could afford it. As a group, body part collectors were fairly close knit, and Neon had been invited to the ball not only for the dancing, but also for a tour of Dr. Moreau’s seldom-seen collection. It was imperative that Kurapika attend this tour with her. He needed to see the other collectors invited, to confirm rumors of who might be among them. It’d grant him greater access to their secret world, ultimately setting into motion second part of his life’s purpose after exacting his revenge: reclaiming his clan’s stolen eyes.

“That’s a good point about the ball, Kurapika,” said Light, deaf to his daughter’s complaints. “You know I’m worried about her going alone, since none of the bodyguards can enter the house. If you don’t secure an additional invitation, then accompanying her as her date might be the only way to get anyone I trust in there to keep an eye on her and keep her safe. I know we said before that it would look suspicious if a bodyguard suddenly accompanied her as a date, but if you’re already dating long before then….”

“Fine,” said Kurapika through clenched teeth. “I agree.”

Neon let out a wail of despair and demanded her father rethink the decision. She hadn’t known what she was saying when she’d suggest Kurapika. Teenagers were terrible at thinking plans through. He shouldn’t have taken her so seriously. She’d just been emotional after having to dump Fedrik Rozas without ever having the chance to date him. There was no way she going to waste her precious date to the Moreau Ball on a loser and a jerk like Kurapika. _He’d compared her to an egg._

Kurapika stood to excuse himself, leaving his untouched glass of water on the tray. Neon snatched the glass up and threw it after him when he was halfway to the door. It shattered on the wall over his shoulder, spattering his left side with water and splintered bits of glass. He slowed and stepped gingerly through the aftermath without looking back. Neon continued to insist that Kurapika was a jerk and implored her father to change his mind. This wasn’t what she’d wanted, and she would rather be unpopular until she was twenty than put up with Kurapika as her pretend boyfriend.

Kurapika opened the study door and stepped out. He didn’t need his dowsing chain to tell him that, despite all her theatrics,  Neon Nostrade was lying.


	6. Putting on a Show

The train hadn’t run drastically late this week, but Senritsu, for the first time, had.

“I’m sorry you were forced to wait so long,” she said as she straightened the hem of her dress from hurrying down the steps of the bus that were high for her childlike stature. Leorio reached out to catch the bag slipping from her shoulder before it hit the ground.

“It was only a half hour. That’s nothing,” said Leorio. “I was just going to drink this sloe berry liqueur alone in an alleyway and weep if you took twenty minutes more to get here without so much as a call or text.”

Senritsu grinned at the clear glass bottle, as long as her arm, filled with a clear, mahogany colored liquor she didn’t recognize. Leorio presented it to her with a flourish like a waiter assuring the patrons at his table that this bottle was precisely the one they’d ordered. Senritsu took it from him and lifted it a few times to feel the heft of the glass.

“Okay, now I’m sure you’re just trying to get us all fired.”

“I can’t imagine what you mean.”

“You were right about how strong those cakes were. They even got to Basho.”

“Well, Basho is a tiny man.”

“That’s Linsen you’re thinking about. Basho has the moustache.”

“In that case, what did you do? Give him the entire box?”

“He couldn’t feel the alcohol and ate five in a row.”

“That would do it,” said Leorio with a chuckle. “I bet he wasn’t many writing poems after that.”

“Nope, he wrote a lot. But none of them were good. Or well, one was good enough to make another box appear, but the box was empty. He literally wrote the most beautiful poem about the box itself when we asked him to get us another one.”

“That’s greedy. He’s not a treat replicator. Text me instead. I have three more boxes at home.”

“Yeah, but the problem was we didn’t save any for Kurapika. Again.”

“You all must hate Kurapika. Is he not cool enough to eat with you guys anymore?”

“No, he’s just never home.”

“Neon’s still got him attending more volleyball matches?”

“No, worse. But you’re going to need to sit down before I tell you everything.”

Senritsu and Leorio continued on their way to a sandwich shop at the corner of the street. The high point of the day’s business had waned, leaving only a handful of lingering diners hunched over small round tables and finalizing their lunchtime discussions with their last sips of coffee and tea. It wasn’t an elegant place, but Leorio and Senritsu never chose elegant places. The counter here dispensed the same food and drinks and variable quality of service all day no matter how late you arrived for lunch. It was predictable and easy. Also, it was cheap.

“They should expand the hot menu when it’s winter,” said Leorio as he stopped and rested his arms lightly over the briefcase set atop the rolling suitcase between his feet. The thoughtful and serious expression he wore as he skimmed the menu above the counter was well beyond the task of selecting sandwich wedges. “Cream cheese spreads and chicken salads aren’t filling on cold days. But none of the toasted options are really appealing to me.”

“Well, hurry up and decide so I can tell you about Kurapika. It’s related to why I invited you to stay here during your school break.”

“You mean there was an ulterior motive to your invitation? It wasn’t just because you adore my company and wanted me within easy reach? That hurts. And here I chose you over a trip to the beach.”

“You weren’t planning to go to the beach, Leorio. It’s too far away, and you can’t easily study there. Half your suitcase sounds like it’s books.”

“You should get your superhuman hearing checked, because actually, it’s all books. My clothes are in the briefcase.”

“Do you want to help Kurapika or not?”

“Help Kurapika?” asked Leorio, his face lighting up at the prospect. “That changes things. You never said I was helping Kurapika. In that case I should’ve come running.”

“I didn’t want you to worry something was wrong, as I wouldn’t have been able to explain the whole situation over the phone. Hurry up and choose some sandwiches so I can explain it to you now.”

Leorio came to attention and strode to the counter without another thought wasted on whichever sandwich he preferred. He went the traditional, toasted ham and cheese route and refrained from a coffee that would excite his nerves more than they already were. In a moment, he was sitting at one of the tables, hardly hungry, but wolfing down half the sandwich, since it was a task that needed to be put out of the way before Senritsu would talk. He burnt his mouth on the cheese and didn’t care.

Senritsu, possessing manners, was not so hasty, and Leorio had to wait ten minutes in poorly subdued agitation before she finally began to tell him all about Kurapika and Neon Nostrade.

* * *

Kurapika looked down at the lace cascading from beneath his cuffs and decided how he felt currently was perhaps the furthest thing from attractive he’d felt in his entire life. He’d asked why he couldn’t dress in his normal bodyguard uniform, to which Neon had replied it was too drab, and he needed to make a good impression. Attending something as prohibitively expensive as a show at the theater was all about presentation. Their box was right near the stage, which mean the audience could see them almost as clearly as they could see the actors. Kurapika needed to remember that and not do anything embarrassing like his pick his nose or fall asleep. 

Kurapika bristled at the suggestion he would pick his nose ever, even without the unasked for public scrutiny, and punished Neon with sullen silence. Neon didn’t notice. Or rather, she didn’t care.

“Who knows, maybe seeing a play will teach you something about acting,” said Neon before they entered the box. Kurapika, occasionally more competent at acting that Neon gave him credit for, played indifferent to her comment.

The girl who’d invited Neon and Kurapika turned to wave and smile at them. Her date, the infamous Fedrik Rozas, who Kurapika had never personally met, made eye contact with him and nodded. Kurapika glanced quickly over the boy’s attire and made bitter note of the fact that he, Kurapika, was the most ridiculously dressed date present. He supposed his outfit complimented Neon’s own outrageous look, but he in no way agreed with her weakly argued stance that it was more egalitarian if she and him dressed as a matching set. Neon said they were to proceed like salt and pepper shakers, side-by-side and nearly identical in form and function. Kurapika said they were more like bookends, identical in form and function, yes, but clearly belonging at opposite ends of a shelf from each other.

Kurapika’s bitter remarks changed nothing. Neon smiled patronizingly at them and told him to save his cleverness for comments that would impress her friends. His romantic act was so bad people were beginning to question what she saw in him, and rumors were getting around Neon was shallow and only cared for the adrenaline rush of dating a cute boy who was meant to risk his life for her, even if her father literally paid that boy to do so.

Kurapika couldn’t argue with anyone who held this opinion. Neon had decided that the best and most absolute way to debut their relationship was to fake a near-death experience and have Kurapika save her from it. Kurapika had shot this down because of the risk it entailed, however remote, of her actually dying. They’d reached a compromise with drowning, as it wasn’t all that hard to pretend to drown, and they could blame it on something vague like a cramp. Neon had then invited all her friends over for an indoor winter pool party. She’d prepared a very precise script for Kurapika to follow once she began to “drown”, promising that only thing Kurapika needed to sacrifice was a suit. Kurapika had scoffed at the idea that Neon believed his suit was the only thing he was sacrificing.

After the whole charade of shouting for Neon and diving into the pool to rescue her, Kurapika had gone against the script and shown painfully little emotion. Indeed, he’d never intended to go along, because he believed Neon’s script was unrealistic drivel after the part where he pulled her from the water. He’d already told Neon before her friends had arrived that the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation she thought was romantic wasn’t necessary, because her being unconscious meant he’d noticed her struggling too late. So much for never taking his eyes off her, right? Plus, someone would definitely call emergency services while he was trying to resuscitate her, and then they’d have to explain to the paramedics her utter lack of signs of respiratory arrest.

“But what if I just say I was faking because I like you and wanted you to save me?”

“Well, one; you just wasted the time of actual professionals whose job it is to save actual lives and not put up with your childish crushes. For two, I would’ve noticed you were fine and not performed CPR on you in the first place.”

“But….”

“And trust me, if you actually passed out drowning, confessing my love to you would be the furthest thing from my mind in lieu of getting you to a doctor. People don’t nearly drown and then get up and go about their day fine, like they just missed the last step on a flight of stairs. It’d be irresponsible of me if I just let you go back to your party. And then, I wouldn’t be your boyfriend; I’d be _fired_.”

Neon hadn’t had time to argue, as her friends had begun to arrive soon after. Kurapika had let her know she could still pretend to be drowning, but if she tried to act unconscious, he’d just sit there after pulling her from the water and stare at her, telling everyone she was fine and not to make any emergency calls—it looked like Neon was just lying there for some reason pretending the be asleep like a weirdo. If at that point she chose to wake up and confess she was actually just trying to get Kurapika to perform mouth-to-mouth on her, she was welcomed to do that.

Wisely, Neon had gone more with the mundane sudden cramp and less of the needless dramatics. Once out of the water, Kurapika prepared to go through with the destroying of his dignity so his suit wouldn’t have to die alone, but it’d turned out much harder than he’d anticipated. He’d pulled Neon toward him as he was supposed to, but at the last second had failed to deliver on the dramatic kiss meant to accompany the rescue. As he held Neon against his chest instead, he’d recited his line about how she shouldn’t scare him like that and that he wouldn’t know what to do if anything ever happened to her, all the while never actually looking at Neon once, but rather at a further point along the ground between the feet of the gathered onlookers. He’d released her from the embrace after forcing a sigh, and then gently helped her to her feet.

Kurapika’s argument afterwards when everyone had left was that his method had been more professional, and therefore much more in character. Neon hadn't cared if it was in character, and had yelled as much as she rained plastic cups at him in a fit of rage. Kurapika’s character was boring and terrible at romance, so he shouldn’t have followed it. She wasn’t dating Kurapika as himself; she was dating her ideal of Kurapika had he been an entirely different person worth dating. There was nothing professional about dating his boss’s daughter in the first place, so he needed to stop pretending otherwise.

Kurapika had been forced to admit Neon had a point.

“What’s the play about again?” asked Neon, squinting at the pamphlet in her hands. “I forgot to check online.”

“It’s about a Hunter who travels the world and goes on adventures,” said Kurapika. “This play is about his adventures when he washes ashore on an island covered by a mountain of blue salt, so from a distance the island is invisible. It’s from a series of plays about the same hero. I think in this one he falls in love with a princess and tricks a witch.”

“I hope they have a beautiful princess,” said Neon. “Have you seen this play before?”

“No. I read the book the story’s in.”

“Of course. You’ve read the book for everything.”

The music playing lightly under the chattering of the theatergoers faded and ceased, sweeping the rumble of conversation away in a hush like an exhale along with it. The lights lowered, until a single beam remained, focused on the center of the curtained stage. This, too, went out a second later, plunging the theater into darkness. Kurapika expanded the perimeter of En around himself until he could sense every movement in the booth and the hall outside without turning to look. Theater date or no, he was still employed primarily as a bodyguard for Neon. It was no time to relax.

“Remember what I said about not falling asleep,” hissed Neon in his ear. “Don’t make me look bad.”

“I promise I’m not going to fall asleep,” said Kurapika. “Don’t even worry about it and watch the show.”

* * *

Leorio had just finished the grand tour of Senritsu’s underutilized apartment. Most of her personal effects were gone, either sold off or relocated to the Nostrade Estate where she now lived. There were some things around that belonged to Basho or Linsen, since Senritsu had opened the apartment to them as well when they’d needed to stay late in the city on a night off. Leorio had asked her if Kurapika had ever been there. Senritsu had said no, not yet. Kurapika preferred to spend his time off training or studying, not enjoying the city. As it was, he already saw more than enough of it accompanying Neon and her friends everywhere.

After storing his luggage in the bedroom and his coat in the hall closet, Leorio took a seat on the couch, waiting for Senritsu to finally explain her plan. At lunch, she’d told him the events leading up to Kurapika pretending to be Neon’s boyfriend. Leorio had laughed, as she’d predicted, but not too much. He’d had a good idea how much Kurapika was perhaps legitimately suffering, so it’d been hard to make too much fun of him.

“Neon’s friends are crazy about it. They think it’s romantic that a girl has fallen in love with her bodyguard. They’re really popular at her school. Girls crowd around the gate waiting for him to show up and escort her home. She hams it up for her friends, naturally, but Kurapika doesn’t even meet her halfway. Not even a quarter of the way. So far she’s just been telling everyone he’s shy, but the truth is he won’t even hold her hand if she doesn’t drop a hint. At first we all just assumed he was being a jerk because he was unhappy at being forced into this. It doesn’t help that Neon likes to see Kurapika suffer more than she cares a whit about him actually going through with the flowery declarations and dramatic kisses she tries to get him to do.”

“That makes sense,” said Leorio. “He’d do that kind of thing if he were mad. He’s very stubborn.”

“Yes, I know. But you see, then I accompanied them when they went to see a science fair at the technology high school, and it didn’t sound to me like Kurapika was just being cold because he was angry. I know how Kurapika’s anger sounds. I’ve heard it enough times roaring in my ears. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t even as annoyed as I’d assumed. He was more like…nervous.”

“How did you notice that? Besides listening, obviously.”

“Once you recognize the rhythm of anxiety in someone’s heart, you begin to see come out in their behavior as well. He has no idea what he’s doing. He has no instinct for romance. He holds her hand like a leash and avoids getting any closer to her than arm’s length. Every kiss Neon suggests turns into one on the cheek or forehead. He’s getting obvious, even to people who can’t hear it from his heart like I can. He knows it, too, but he just shuts down and gets really awkward, and he covers it by being cold.”

“To be fair, that’s basically how he deals with all of his feelings, and we know it,” said Leorio with a wry smile before growing serious. “Anyone would have trouble in this situation, much less an eighteen-year-old guy with no dating experience who lives as though he’s convinced being the lone survivor of his clan means he needs to always be alone. I don’t pretend to know why he choses that. He’s not someone who shares a lot about himself or asks for help. Not unless you ask or offer directly to help him.”

“Well, he asked me himself if I had any idea what he can do to make this easier. Maybe I knew some song that would make him know what romantic love feels like so he could have an idea and use it to make himself more believable. If rumors get around that he’s not in love, that he’s sparing Neon’s feelings or is only dating her to keep his job, it’ll defeat the purpose of going through with the charade in the first place, because they won’t let him into the Moreau Ball. So, I played him some romantic songs, but he said they were either depressing or cheesy. He had a point. All the most moving songs are about finding love, pining for love, or losing love. Most of them just make him sad because even though he’s never found love, he’s definitely experienced profound loss and wanting impossible things.”

Leorio sighed and nodded along knowingly. “So, I imagine this is where I come in?” he asked.

“He thinks he needs to learn the skills, the gestures, how to deftly perform the acts that signal to others that two people are in love. He needs to practice so that he’s not embarrassing himself attempting such things for the first time in front of an audience. If he can at least act charming and romantic, even if he doesn’t feel it, people will like him enough that he’ll be able to sell the idea he’s a great and, most importantly, _willing_ boyfriend.”

“You’re implying I’m charming and romantic and know all about it, and I’m flattered. What do you want me to do? Teach him?”

“Can you?”

“Well, sure. It’s normally something life teaches you, but you can accelerate the process with some lessons. Nothing wrong with that. What do I get out of it?”

“Sorry?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Oh, I kind of thought you’d help because Kurapika is your friend.”

“I’ve had way better friends than Kurapika.”

“But your heart always says….”

“Doesn’t matter what my heart says. Listening to my brain right now. My brain is telling me don’t work for free.”

“Oh, c’mon, Leorio. This isn’t work. The most you’ll get out of this is he’ll actually answer the phone when you call him.”

“Wait, he expects me to teach him over the phone?”

“There’s a private, secure line between this apartment and the Nostrade house. He thinks that’ll be best, as he doesn’t like to leave the estate when he’s off work in case there’s an emergency. Plus, it’ll intrude on you less, so you’ll have more time to study.”

“That’s not going to work. Tell him I’ll forgo any payment so long as he actually drags his ass into the city to see me. What I know can’t simply be imparted over a half hour telephone call every other afternoon. Because let me tell you, if knowing all about how to do something in theory, without ever actually seeing it or practicing it, actually worked, Kurapika wouldn’t be having this problem. Hell, he’d have studied himself to an ascendant level of being by now. He’d be awesome at everything.”

“I’ll suggest it to him.”

“No. Where’s that secure phone line? We’ll call him now. Is he at the estate?”

“No. He’s attending a play.”

“On a date?”

“He’s with Neon and some of her friends.”

“Well, let’s hope he survives it. I’ll call later tonight. I’m not as nice as you are, so he’ll cave faster if we cut to the chase and I just yell at him first thing.”

“He might yell back at you, if his attitude after returning from dates with Neon is any indication. He won’t be in a mood to be told what to do.”

“Kurapika’s never in a mood to be told what to do.”

Senritsu agreed wholeheartedly. She stood to show Leorio the phone and how to dial the Nostrade Estate. Kurapika ought to be home by eleven. He’d finally convinced Light to set a curfew. Staying out too late while under the watch of one’s bodyguard had been one thing. Staying out too late with a bodyguard one was supposedly dating, on the other hand, would get people to talk, and not in the way Light wanted them to.

“I bet he’ll be here first thing tomorrow,” said Leorio confidently. “I know how to persuade him. His relationship with Neon just needs to survive the theater. Shouldn’t be hard. The theater tends to be a rather a sedate affair. But then again, I don’t go.”

* * *

Kurapika covered his face with his hand and slid down awkwardly in his seat, praying he might disappear. Neon had stepped out to the bathroom during the intermission, leaving Kurapika behind. Kurapika wasn’t supposed to look like he was working, so he remained in his seat in the box while Linsen and an attendant accompanied Neon to look after her.

Kurapika wasn’t utterly abandoned in the box. With him, but paying him zero mind, were Neon’s friends. Kurapika drummed his fingers against the armrest of his seat, but the soft thud wasn’t enough to drown out the sounds of the increasingly amorous couple only just over his right shoulder. Fedrik, in jest, had let out an appreciative gasp at the sight of the princess in the play, and this had kicked off a mocking feud between him and his date. They’d been murmuring to each other and playfully wrestling over the armrests between them for two whole acts already, and Kurapika suspected neither had an idea what they were watching anymore.

Nor, Kurapika also suspected, did either of them have any idea _where_ _they_ _were_ anymore. The girl had just broken off a giggle with a groan that implied Kurapika was certainly not going to be the one embarrassing anyone by falling asleep as much as these two lovebirds were going to embarrass themselves by getting handsy in view of the plebeian masses below. All the money to buy private box seats couldn’t buy you the class to sit in them with the appropriate decorum. Harder than before, Kurapika wished to disappear.

Senritsu-level super hearing wasn't required to distinguish the smack of lips and sloppily exchanged kisses increasing in frequency between box’s two other occupants. Kurapika shut his eyes, but the darkness of nothing to see and everything to hear only made the situation worse. He decided it was time to put a stop to this, if not for himself, then at least for the sake of the kids’ parents. Steeling himself for what he might see, he pulled himself back up in his seat. He draped his arm over the chair back and then turned his upper body around to follow. At the sight of the two slobbering, love-drunk teens, he let out a loud harrumph that cut through the short distance between them, carrying all the snooty judgment and condescension Kurapika could muster.

The girl froze first and pushed Fedrik away. Fedrik, oblivious to all but his own pressing urges, looked at her, and then around them, baffled. He caught Kurapika’s eyes and was greeted with Kurapika’s most disdainful of frowns.

Without a word, Kurapika pointed towards the rest of the theater. All traces of the smile Fedrik had directed at his girlfriend faded from his lips.

“If you want to put on a show, the stage is over there,” said Kurapika, sharply gesturing back with his thumb to the front of the theater. The girl pushed Fedrik the rest of the way off of her and cringed down into her seat. This embarrassed Fedrik, who turned on Kurapika.

“You’re an ass,” said Fedrik. He rose to his seat in challenge while Kurapika shot from his own and spun around to meet him. At that moment, Neon appeared at the entryway of the box.

“What the hell, Kurapika?” asked Neon. Somehow, she wasn’t mad. She was exasperated, groaning at Kurapika as if she couldn’t leave him alone for ten minutes without him picking a fight. “What did you do now?”

“He’s an asshole,” answered Fedrik for him. “He needs to keep his damn mouth shut and mind his own business.”

“Tell me about it,” said Neon rolling her eyes. She turned to Kurapika again. “Exactly what kind of asshole were you this time, Kurapika?”

“I asked them to stop making a spectacle of themselves. His hand was down her shirt, neither of them were being subtle. His pants are tight and her bra is showing. Are you idiots out of your minds?” demanded Kurapika, looking between the two of them. The girl gasped and hurried to straighten her neckline. Fedrik hunched over a little and took a step back. “I put the brakes on it, and he got mad because he isn’t thinking with his brain.”

“I got mad because you were an asshole about it,” said Fedrik. “You’re fucking full of yourself, aren’t you, Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass? At least I like my girlfriend. She’s told me you’re a damn robot.”

“Keep your voice down; there’s an audience.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Not in a theater box where everyone can see me.”

“Kurapika!” snapped Neon, appalled with his behaviour towards her friends. Kurapika, who’d been leaning towards Fedrik ready to fight, winced and looked over sheepishly in her direction at last. He cleared his throat as he straightened up, out of his combat stance, and walked over to stand beside Neon. He took her arm in preparation to escort her away.

“I apologize,” he said to Fedrik and the girl. He lowered his head in to them courteously and nudged Neon towards the exit. “I handled this poorly, and it’s my fault. Forgive me and enjoy the rest of the performance. Miss Nos—Neon and I are leaving. Goodnight.”

Neon was too shocked to protest as Kurapika led her out into the hall and down the stairs. They’d reached the door to leave before she finally began pulling out of his grip. She looked back to Linsen, who shook his head and motioned for her to continue with Kurapika out of the theater. Kurapika called the car, and the four of them waited for it to arrive.

“Wha—well, what happened?” asked Neon after they all got into the car. She was the first to break the silence that’d reigned full and absolute as they left the city behind them. “Why did you…. I mean, you were actually pissed with someone. I’ve never thought you were so…mean.”

“I got mad,” said Kurapika, his voice dull as he looked out the window and away from everyone else in the car. “I’m sorry. What I said was stupid.”

“Well, actually it was kinda funny….”

“No. I didn’t think. When I get mad, I don’t think. I almost got in a fight over something unbelievably stupid, and I regret it.”

“Wait, you were actually going to fight him?”

“If he’d come at me, yes.”

“Because he was making out in a theater?”

“…No.”

“Then why?”

“Because I was angry, I suppose.”

“But you were mad because they were being embarrassing, though.”

“Sure.”

Neon furrowed her brow, uncertain what else to say. She looked to Linsen. Again, Linsen shook his head to signal to her that she shouldn’t push her luck. Neon rolled her eyes and put on a pair of headphones, muttering that the play had been boring anyway, so really she was lucky Kurapika had almost got in a fight. Watching Kurapika punch someone in the face would’ve been way cooler than a play about some boring hero falling in love with princesses and being an asshole to a witch. It was too bad Fedrik hadn’t come at Kurapika. It would’ve made her entire evening to see that. What a shame.

* * *

Light was too busy working in his study to care when he heard Neon had come home early. He told Kurapika to take the night off as treat since Neon was going to stay in her room watching TV for the rest of the evening. Though Kurapika wholeheartedly embraced the idea of a night off, he was too riled from the events at the theater to enjoy it. Going for a late run around the grounds seemed a good option to reflect and clear his head. The physical activity would calm him down and tire him out, but the cold would keep him sharp. In a half hour run, he’d have himself all sorted out.

Kurapika was passing through the common room, already dressed in a green tracksuit and gear, when Basho stopped him and held out the receiver of the security office’s main phone. He told Kurapika it was the estate accountant, and then beat a hasty retreat.

“If this is about skipping out on the theater, don’t worry; Light Nostrade didn’t pay for the tickets,” said Kurapika. “I notified your office only in case there was a call or complaint that came through, since so many of our public relations personnel were moved to your office last week to save money on renting space for them in the city....”

“You skipped out or you got kicked out, Kurapika? Did you get in trouble? Tell the truth.”

It took Kurapika much longer than it should have to realize that he knew the voice speaking, and that it wasn’t someone who worked in any of the main offices of the Nostrade Estate.

“Senritsu’s not here, Leorio. Why did you lie and tell Basho you were from the estate office?”

“Basho lied. You wouldn’t have answered otherwise. Also, Basho called me. I asked him to call when you got home from your date. You’re two hours early, though.”

Kurapika thought back to the theater box, to the “happy” couple and the largely apathetic one sharing the same balcony. He went to have a seat in one of the common room’s armchairs, suddenly tired.

“The play wasn’t great,” he said.

“Too bad. But hey, it was good to bring Neon home early on a school night. You’re a responsible guy. Adolescents and young adults need a lot of sleep, you know? Although ironically, they’re at an age where sleep is far from one of the first things on their minds.”

Kurapika smiled a little. “Leorio,” he said, “talking about young adults in that tone like you aren’t one of them is precisely why everyone thinks you’re already an old man.”

“Well, do I get my eight hours,” said Leorio thoughtfully. “I might be a student, and a medical student at that, but that only means I know better than anyone how important sleep is for the brain.”

“I’ve heard that not getting enough sleep stunts your growth. You must get more than enough.”

“Not getting enough of anything crucial to human development will stunt your growth,” said Leorio. He proceeded to delve into far too much detail, leaving Kurapika with the impression that Leorio might be nervous about something. “But yeah, it’ll affect your hormones, and therefore repress the full release of the human growth hormone, which is primarily released at night, potentially resulting in reduced stature. You and I are way past that, though. We’re not getting any taller, no matter how many hours we get to sleep at night.”

“You know I was only making a comment on your height, right?”

“Yes, I do, but you must understand; all I do is study medicine.”

“And likewise, all I do is work, which is why we’re talking now, right? You said you’ve spoken to Senritsu, so you already know….” There was the clink of a coffee cup in the other room, probably someone preparing for their night shift in the kitchenette. Kurapika lowered his voice. “I need help with something.”

“And you sent Senritsu to ask because you’re too damn proud.”

A long pause fell as Kurapika deliberated whether to admit that Leorio was right, or to lie and potentially embarrass himself even further when Leorio called him out on that, too.

“Why didn’t you just tell me yourself?” asked Leorio, saving Kurapika from having to answer. “Why is it you use Senritsu as liaison when we’re supposed to be friends, and you’re supposed to be able to reach out to me directly?”

“She was going to see you anyway.”

“Calling me yourself would’ve been faster.”

“I…didn’t know how to explain. I’m really sort of uncomfortable and embarrassed by the whole thing.”

Whoever was in the kitchenette had the nerve to scoff at the mental image of Kurapika ever giving enough of a damn to be embarrassed by anything. Kurapika frowned and stood up, taking the call to his bedroom while Leorio went on telling him what his real problem was.

“So, we’ve come right back around to your pride, then. Because you’ve realized total self-sufficiency isn’t going to be enough to get you through pretending to have a physical and emotional connection to another human being.”

Kurapika didn’t appreciate Leorio’s choice of words. His mind flew right back to the theater box again, unable to let the memory of it go. Why had his professional demeanor abandoned him so utterly for those short, few moments? Kurapika knew he could be short-tempered, but his rage was normally a response to the memory of his massacred clan, not to the antics of stupid teenagers.

Thinking back, however, Kurapika questioned whether he’d truly even been angry. He’d wanted to fight, yes, but it’d felt more like prepping himself for a counterattack. Something about the other couple had threatened him. He hadn’t wanted to be reminded that how they were was something he couldn’t be. He’d wanted to judge and criticize them because the ease with which they’d played out their romantic roles had made him feel inadequate.

He was, Kurapika saw now beyond the shadow of any doubt, a loser. Worse of all, he needed Leorio Paladiknight’s help learn how to stop being one. This was truly the lowest point his self-esteem had ever come to.

“Hello? Don’t give me the silent treatment over the phone, Kurapika. It’s much more effective to just hang up.”

“Sorry. I was moving to another room.”

“For three whole minutes? Are you crossing the entire mansion?”

“I had to clear some books away so I could sit down.”

“And are you done now?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, tell me why you need my help and not like, Basho’s or something. He’s a poet. He’ll probably talk your ear off about love and stuff.”

“He has. And that’s the extent of what he can do. Endless words, pretty metaphors, and nothing practical. Senritsu, though, told me you’re good at this sort of thing. That it comes naturally to you.”

“What sort of thing exactly?”

“Dating. Getting along with people. But mostly just dating. You’ve had a lot of practice with it. More than anyone else I know.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not. It’s just not… _my thing_. I need help with it.”

“And why should I help you?”

“You’re my friend.”

“And what do you even expect me to do?”

“Teach me how to date, I guess. Give me practical information that I can use to convincingly assert the presumed validity of the burgeoning relationship between Neon Nostrade and myself.”

“You’re not allowed to criticize Basho, Kurapika, if you’re going to feed me riddles like ‘convincingly assert the presumed validity of the burgeoning relationship’ instead of just saying ‘pretend to date’.”

“I don’t like to say it that way.”

“What way? The way that implicates you as a liar? That openly admits you’re participating in a farce that you can’t divorce yourself from well enough to conduct believably?”

“Are you trying to make me hang up on you?”

“If you do, it only proves what I told Senritsu when she came over and asked me to help you.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That you need to come out here in person. You’re not going to want to hear a lot of what I have to say, and you’re going to break the phone hanging up every time I offend you.”

“I’m not going to hang up on you. I can handle whatever you have to say.”

“I need you in front of me in order to make sure you hear me when I say it. I lose my patience over the phone. You could be reading a magazine and blowing me off right now for all I know. So, either you come out here in person, or you find some other answer. I came here expecting to just hang around the city, study, and occasionally get drinks with Senritsu. I’m fully willing to go back to my previous plan if you’re too proud.”

“Fine. I have an appointment in the city tomorrow. I can stop by beforehand.”

“Really? It’s fine?”

“Leorio, you have no idea. I’m…[‘ _actually kind of desperate_ ,’ Kurapika didn’t say] sure you know what’s best.”

“Well, uh, shit. That was easy. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah. See you. I’ll text you before I head out.”

Kurapika hung up at last a moment later. He decided he no longer needed an introspective run around the estate to clear his head. A run wouldn’t have been nearly enough to put him at ease.


	7. Fake Friends to Fake Lovers (Lesson One)

The steady undercurrent of repetitive sound had been unique and unsettling at first. Leorio had noticed far too late that the clock hanging in the kitchen was loud enough to be heard throughout the entire apartment. The radiators, meanwhile, were nearly silent save for a high, whispery hiss. Every appliance had been chosen for its energy efficiency and its softer, less grating sound. Even the exhaust fan in the hood above the stove was hardly audible. Leorio had been surprised into a double take by it, removing the filter and craning his neck over the range to look inside and make sure it was running.

This apartment was clearly the habitat of one with delicate hearing. Senritsu had warned Leorio that Basho found the bedroom to be the most unsettling space of all, since it was almost completely silent. Originally she’d had the room soundproofed as a place to rehearse her instruments. She’d moved the bed in there and the piano out when she’d discovered it was the only place she could sleep the whole night through. The piano now lived in the front room, where it took up half the usable space.

The clock’s tick filled the emptiness of the apartment, as steady as a metronome marking life itself as it paced, a step for each second evolving into full minutes in which Leorio waited. At last he was jolted to attention by the strident buzz of the door-phone being rung downstairs. Leorio rose, none too quickly because he was petty, and went to answer at the intercom. The buzzer sounded three more times before he pressed the button to reply.

“Hello?”

“It’s Kurapika.”

“Hello.”

“What? Let me in.”

“Hello, Kurapika.”

“HELLO--Leorio don’t start this.”

Leorio buzzed Kurapika in. A few minutes later, Kurapika was standing in the hall outside and knocking. Leorio didn’t wait this time or make a protracted joke of opening the door slowly. He was already there and had even listened to Kurapika clearing his throat as he trudged up the central stairs. He’d needed to restrain himself from swinging the door open immediately before Kurapika could remove his glove to knock.

“Well, hi? Leorio?” said Kurapika, surprised how quickly the door had been answered, but realizing that of course it’d been fast. Leorio had known Kurapika would only take a minute to climb the stairs.

“Come in,” said Leorio. “I was beginning to think you’d walked here from the Nostrade place. What took so long? You’re late.”

“I forgot my other phone.”

“Other phone? You have a hard enough time answering one. You're telling me there’s more?”

Kurapika stopped to remove his coat and place it inside the hall closet at Leorio’s gestured behest. “Yeah. My ‘dating’ phone,” he said. “I have to text Neon heart emoticons and a curated mix of motivational and romantic quotes from it while she’s at school.”

“The hearts and romantic stuff I get, but motivational quotes? Who’s curating this?”

“Light Nostrade. He wants to use our connection as a platform to reach his daughter with important lessons and facts of life she needs to always have at the forefront of her mind.”

“That’s...kind of sweet. Fatherly.”

“He has his moments,” said Kurapika. He finished wrapping the coat over a hanger and let Leorio shut the closet door for him. “Senritsu suggested it, and he’s really taken to it. I’m not sure Neon cares. She never mentions them; she just shows off the romantic ones to her friends.”

“Really? What have you got queued up for today? I’m curious.”

Kurapika turned back to the closet and opened it for his coat. He fished three separate phones from its pockets while Leorio watched, amazed and also asking himself bitterly which one of those phones was the one Kurapika blew off whenever Leorio tried to call. Kurapika selected one and brought it with him, putting the rest away before shutting the closet door again. 

“Don’t give me too hard a time about this,” said Kurapika, turning the phone on as he entered the main living space. He became distracted as his eyes searched around to familiarize him with the room’s layout. They dwelled on the large, awkwardly placed piano. The phone let out a ring, notifying him of new messages, reminding him it was there. He looked down at it and continued on his way to a stool along the center island bar that separated the kitchen space from the living room space. Leorio went to stand at the opposite side. Kurapika placed the phone on the counter between them and unlocked it before passing it over. 

“I don’t pick them out, I just have to send them,” said Kurapika when he heard Leorio scoff at something  that was either sappily romantic or sappily motivational. There was nothing on this phone between those two extremes. Even the background image was a picture of Neon beaming while Kurapika hovered over her shoulder wearing a smile so weak that covering the bottom half of his face erased any suggestion he was smiling at all.

“ ‘Happiness is something that multiplies when it is divided.’ ‘Behind the mask of ice that people wear, there beats a heart of fire.’ ‘The secret of life is to fall seven times and to get up eight times.’ ‘Don’t be intimidated by other people’s opinions. Only mediocrity is sure of itself, so take risks and do what you really want to do.’ “

Kurapika sighed over the last quote Leorio read aloud. “I’ve already seen them. You really don’t need to share,” he said, squirming in his seat but at the same time relieved that Leorio was limiting himself to the motivational material. The romantic ones, Leorio pointed out, ridiculed themselves enough already. 

“ ‘What is a teacher? I'll tell you: it isn't someone who teaches something, but someone who inspires the student to give of her best in order to discover what she already knows.’ Huh. Maybe I should take that advice, seeing how I’m something of a teacher myself now. If only I could figure out what it means, though….” 

“If you scroll up you’ll see more quotes about teachers. Neon was complaining about hers, and Light responded two days later with what I’m pretty sure was every quote he could find that mentioned teachers.”

“I’m curious how he interprets it, then,” said Leorio as he scrolled through a few more texts. “I can’t tell if he’s for or against them here.”

“Instead of figuring them all out, let’s just get back to work, okay?”

“Work? You’re supposed to be off the clock except for emergencies today,” said Leorio.  “Relax. Follow this great advice you gave Neon that I’m certain is totally applicable to every life situation ever: ‘If you believe in victory, then victory will believe in you.’ See? No need to overwork yourself. Just _believe_.”

“Stop it. I’m here for work-related reasons, and you know that.”

“Oh yeah,” said Leorio. He placed the phone down on the counter so Kurapika could stop glaring at the back of it as it wasted his time. “Like a workshop for professional development, except your boss isn’t paying for it. I should’ve prepared some slides to make this a more authentic experience. And put donuts and coffee on the counter. Like a seminar.”

“A cheaply catered seminar.”

“But catered.”

“You haven’t catered anything that I can see.”

“There’s orange juice in the refrigerator.”

“And?”

“There’s orange juice in the refrigerator. Budget was short. No donuts.”

Kurapika tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter and sighed. “Clearly Senritsu was lying when she said you were charming. I’m not charmed; I’m astounded as always at your level of commitment to unfunny jokes.”

“No, see, that’s because the lesson for today has already begun.”

“Oh,” said Kurapika, slowly turning forward to face Leorio like a pupil who hadn’t heard the bell and had just been reprimanded for it. He crossed his arms in front of him and leaned heavily on the counter, openly reluctant to face the task he’d come all this way for. The refrigerator to his left hummed faintly to life after Leorio opened it to remove a carton of juice. Kurapika watched it with a sidelong glance.

“What do you mean?” asked Kurapika. “How does this lesson start? Are you testing my patience, maybe?”

“You’re about to witness a night-and-day transformation. Instead of the loud, obnoxious, and irritable nuisance I normally become in your company, I’m going to make myself _pleasant_. Because the first thing about dating and relationships is getting along with people who don’t have the time to let you grow on them. You have to know how to be a pleasant person to be around. You have to be nice.”

“I get along with people just fine. I’m very polite.”

“Polite and nice aren’t the same. Polite is formal. Nice is friendly. You know how to be friendly. You have plenty of friends.”

“I have few friends.”

“What I’m getting at is that you know how to be nice. The problem is you treat most people formally. You set boundaries fast. The roles are fixed, and the social distance is insuperable. It gives you peace of mind because it’s predictable and easy, and you’re rarely uncertain of what’s expected of you. Unfortunately, it’s the opposite of what you want in a romantic relationship. Romance is about getting to know people, about actively getting close to them. Your formal politeness is about keeping people apart.”

“What’s that got to do with Neon?” asked Kurapika. He eyes still belonged to the humming refrigerator and not Leorio speaking to him. “I’m not trying to find a real girlfriend, some stranger I don’t know. I’m just trying to pull off the false relationship I never asked for that I have now. Just tell me how to get along with Neon believably, not how to start an actual romantic relationship.”

“Senritsu told me you’re cold to Neon. You’re polite and nothing else.”

“What else would I be? She’s my boss.”

“You’d be nice to her.”

Kurapika groaned and covered his face. “How is being polite not nice? Do I need to be rude? Do I need to be mean? She calls me a jerk all the time because I don’t let her have everything she wants, but I’m never, ever malicious towards her. I already _am_ nice. She has no idea.”

There was the heavy clink of a glass being set on the counter in front of Kurapika. He lifted his hands from his face and looked down. A serving of orange juice rested to the right of his elbow.

“Oh,” he said. “Thanks.” He took glass in his hands and held it. Smiling quickly, he took a small sip.

“I never said nice and polite were mutually exclusive,” said Leorio. He poured himself a glass of juice as well. “Being nice is based on making another person happy, even if you have to lie to them, because you care about their well-being. Polite is following a prescribed set of rules that keep another person happy, because you care about not making them upset with you. You can certainly express how nice you are by being polite to someone. Politeness is really just formalized niceness, so it overlaps. But you need to actually be nice to Neon. Not just polite.”

Leorio turned to put the carton of orange juice away. Kurapika watched him, wringing his hands over the smooth surface of the cold glass he was holding. Leorio turned back, and Kurapika busied himself with another sip. Meanwhile, Leorio took his own glass and knocked it back all at once without stopping for breath. Kurapika stared at him.

“Thirsty?” asked Kurapika after Leorio let out a long, satisfied ‘ah’. Leorio chuckled and put his empty glass in the sink. He pointed to Kurapika’s own, still hardly touched.

“Did you want that?”

“Uh. Not really.”

“Then why did you accept it?”

“I don’t know. You offered it.”

“Why didn’t you turn it down? You know I wouldn’t have cared.”

“I didn’t not want the juice enough to turn it down. I honestly wasn’t thinking about your feelings at all.”

“You didn’t have to. We’re friends. Our interaction is so natural you don’t have to think about it in detail anymore. And it should be a hint to you that the only way this charade is going to work with Neon is if you become friends with her, and you both work together.”

“I can’t be friends with my boss.”

“Then cohorts. Whatever. What you can’t do is maintain your polite distance. That is a lost and faraway dream at this point. You’re probably already starting to feel the need to be more familiar with her, because a part of you knows that’s the only way this is going to work. Give in to that. Your instinct is correct.”

Kurapika attempted to swirl the contents of the glass around, but the juice didn’t spin well since the low glass was too full. With the realization that he was acting sullen and moody like a child, he let the glass go and pushed it away, returning it to Leorio. Kurapika hadn’t wanted it. It was stupid of Leorio to try to make a point of Kurapika accepting it anyway. What if Kurapika had drunk the juice? Then where was that lecture supposed to have gone? Was Leorio just going to keep offering him things until Kurapika obviously took something he didn’t want?

“I don’t trust her.”

“That’s a problem,” said Leorio. He took the rejected glass of juice and started drinking it.

“She’s going to do everything in her power to make this hard for me because it amuses her. It’s a game. And for now, I must endure it. That is all.”

“You might not trust her to have your best interests at heart at the moment, and I doubt it’s entirely her fault that she treats you badly, but at the end of the day, she has no choice but to trust you to protect her. So, she’ll work with you.”

“True. But if she and her father knew better they wouldn’t trust me at all.”

Leorio lowered the glass he’d been lifting to his lips.

“Why? What’s not to trust?”

“Neon’s the kind of person who only thinks about herself. Her father’s the same. He depends on me to protect his family, both his daughter as well as his business, but only because he’s so terrified what’ll happen to him, personally, if it all fails. He’ll never make a move to support me if it doesn’t benefit him. Neither will Neon. They’re the same.”

“That’s normal in self-made men and their spoiled daughters. Occupational hazard of bodyguarding.”

“But you see, the thing about people who think only of themselves is that you always know what’s on their minds. You can depend on it. I don’t want them to care about anything else. They’re fine as they are, obsessed with themselves. I encourage it.”

“What are you saying?”

“More than I should, but only because I want you to understand. The important thing is that I don’t want to work with Neon Nostrade, and I won’t get any closer to her that I already am. You’ll need a different approach if you intend to help me at all. I suggest focusing on skills. Do practice runs of the mechanical aspects of what relationships look like. There are people in the world who date and seduce for a living. There are con-artists who can sell any emotion that will gain them the full trust of those around them in order to further their crimes. Actors perform perfect romances on screen and hate each other off camera. Now, I see your point that getting along better with Neon might make my life easier for now, but it isn’t necessary. Indeed, it’s not a direction I’m interested in going. We’ll have to act like a couple for appearances, but in private she’ll remain in her role, and I’ll remain in mine, because after the Moreau Ball, this charade won’t be necessary.”

Leorio’s expression had grown blank listening to Kurapika speak. His hand clenched around the glass as he stared Kurapika down, trying to figure out what Kurapika was really saying.

“What are you planning?” asked Leorio, but Kurapika brushed the question off and hopped down from the barstool.

“That’s my business,” said Kurapika as he walked back to the short entrance hall of the apartment. “I’m going to leave now and let you re-evaluate your approach.” He opened the hall closet and removed his coat, putting it back on after having only stayed for what barely constituted a half hour. “I agree that meeting in person is better than over the phone, so I’ll be here tomorrow around the same time. Senritsu wants me to bring you lunch from the kitchens at the estate, so don’t buy too many groceries if you go out later. I don’t have anything to give you today because the kitchen forgot. I won’t let them forget tomorrow. Have a good afternoon.”

Kurapika was already opening the door and waving his glove-free hand to Leorio, who stared at the piano and thoughtfully drank his juice. He grunted in acknowledgement of the goodbye, and the door shut. He supposed he ought to snap out of his slump long enough to lock the door after Kurapika. Instead, he grabbed his coat off the back of a chair and hurried after him. Kurapika’s (not all the surprising) refusal to work with Neon as an accomplice told Leorio he was going to have to employ his backup plan.

Outside, long-legged Leorio caught up with Kurapika long before Kurapika had made it a block. He stopped Kurapika at the corner, just as he was about to cross the street. He didn’t say anything, just grabbed Kurapika by the back of his coat, a little short of breath from having rushed uphill as fast as he could without breaking into a run.

“You’re free all day, right?” asked Leorio once Kurapika had turned around.

Kurapika didn’t answer right away. He needed a second to recover from the shock of someone holding the back of his coat and detaining him, even though he knew now it only could've been Leorio. He told himself that he definitely should’ve gone with his first instinct to swing at whoever was behind him, just to get it through Leorio’s head that these kinds of things weren’t done to Kurapika without repercussions.

“What?”

“Senritsu told me Neon’s going to be home all day because she’s sick.”

“She’s not sick. She’s binge-watching Black Planet Planet.”

“The reality show about Black Planet’s world tour?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s so cool. If I had a time machine, my first order of business would be to use it to give myself time to watch that show. I hear it’s awesome.”

“Neon’s decided it’s more important to her than school today.”

“Have you ever listened to Black Planet?”

“No.”

“Well, she’s right.”

Kurapika heard the chime of the crosswalk behind him grow faster, warning those still in the street to hurry, the allotted time to cross was ending. Then, the chime stopped. Kurapika would have to wait another cycle. He crossed his arms and looked at Leorio, impatiently anticipating what Leorio’s purpose here was.

“Is there a reason you’ve come after me?”

“Yeah. It’s lunch time, so let’s get lunch.”

“I have things to do.”

“Word of advice: Don’t tell a doctor you’re so busy you plan on skipping lunch. It is bad for your health, and we will guilt you over it every time we see you.”

“I really haven’t got time. There are some errands I need to run. Plus, I already know better than to go hungry. I always carry meal replacements in case work is hectic, and I haven’t got time to sit down and eat anything.”

“Well then, what about dinner? Or coffee? You can’t waste a free day from work doing other work. You should accept my invitation.”

“Fine. I guess dinner, then. I should still be in the city around dinner.”

“Great! It’s a date, then.”

“It’s a what?”

“A date. I just asked you out on date.”

“All you did was ask me to get dinner with you.”

“That’s how you ask people on dates,” said Leorio. He stood straighter and adjusted his glasses, entering lecture-mode. Kurapika realized with a sigh that he was going to be standing at the corner of this intersection for much longer than a single traffic cycle. 

“See, you invite a person you want to know better to do something with you, and you hope they accept. Then, ideally, they continue to accept more invitations, and even offer some of their own. After so much interaction and however long an interval of time, you grow to know each other well enough to want to…get to know each other better. Like, each other’s domiciles better. Like, something you’d know little about.”

“Leorio, I’m single, not stupid. I know precisely what you’re getting at. You don’t have to speak in euphemisms to protect my delicate sensibilities.”

“Oh, but it’s not for you; it’s for me. I find euphemisms hilarious.”

“Maybe refrain from them in the future and treat me like an adult,” said Kurapika. He looked to the traffic lights and saw it would be time to cross again soon. He chose not to. The point he needed to argue was much too important. 

“I know eighteen ends in ‘teen’ and all, but I’m hardly a stuttering little boy who can’t be told in plain language that it’s common for people in romantic relationships to have sex with each other. I know what intimacy is. I know how dating works, even if I’ve never done it until now.”

“Apparently you don’t know everything if you need my help,” muttered Leorio.

“I am perfectly aware of my inexperience with the practical aspects,” Kurapika reminded him briskly. “That’s why I need to practice, to desensitize myself to the particular displays that are required of me. So that I can give the proper impression to others that I’m in a strong and happy relationship with Neon Nostrade. But, since such an act doesn’t, it would seem, come naturally to me, I must learn it.”

“And we’ll begin with dinner tonight, so you can see what a real date is like.”

Kurapika hoped the red already on his face from the cold concealed the faint blush that washed over him when the embarrassing thought of “really” dating Leorio took clear form in his mind. 

“Well, it’s not exactly a real date,” he said defensively. “It’s not a date when a friend asks you out to help you. We’ve eaten together before loads of times, except this time you can just point out how it would be different if I were with a girl I wanted to get to know.”

“Don’t underestimate my dating capabilities. I can date anyone, I assure you,” said Leorio. “I’m taking you on a real date, Kurapika. Because you need to learn how to actually go on a date before you can believably pretend to go on one. This won’t be just dinner between friends. For example: I might just hold your hand and say something stupid about how nice you look.”

Kurapika was confident the red in his face was a permanent fixture now. He was also sadly aware that it wouldn’t look like a mere result of the cold anymore to anyone who might see him.

“ _What_?” he asked. “Really? That’s not weird for you, though? Going on a date with me?”

“Why would it be weird? I’m doing the world a service here. Is it weird for you?”

“Nevermind,” said Kurapika. He switched a more tangible, more immediate concern. “Uh. But, do I need to dress up?”

Kurapika thought about the lace and velvet lining on the formless hallucination of a tailcoat Neon had forced him into the night before. It’d made him look like a groom who’d gone through a shredder and then attempted to piece his wedding attired back together with stick-on Velcro fastenings. Neon had told him to stop complaining, he looked rad as hell in it. Kurapika had failed to feel the radness.

“Just dress in a way that won’t embarrass me to be seen with you. Button up shirt, a belt, comfortable shoes, a warm coat. Nothing crazy. But be prepared to walk.”

“So wear what I’m wearing now, basically.”

“I don’t even think you own a t-shirt and jeans.”

“Do you?”

“Yes! Well…maybe. I think. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them around.”

Kurapika laughed and looked up to the traffic light one more time to gauge the start of the next cycle. He told Leorio he’d meet him in the street outside Senritsu’s apartment at around a quarter to five. Leorio promised to be downstairs ready and waiting, so Kurapika better not be late. Kurapika promised to be on time. 

“Great! It's a date, then,” Leorio repeated one final time, just to test Kurapika. Kurapika answered wisely with an incredulous shrug, committing to nothing.


	8. It’s a Date

Though still a block and a half away, Kurapika had no trouble distinguishing the tall, slouched form of Leorio leaning against the doorway of Senritsu’s apartment building and idly reading a grocery sales paper. The fading light of late afternoon would’ve blurred Leorio into anonymity in his dark coat, making him another faceless body amongst the pedestrians, had he not towered over nearly everyone who passed.

At first, Kurapika smiled when he caught sight of Leorio. He then immediately stopped smiling because he felt like a fool. Anything that made Kurapika happy was treated with immediate distrust, which was ironic, considering that he’d recently become much more open to the idea of finding happiness in sources beyond his personal revenge quest against the criminals that had killed his clan. For the brief period of time in York Shin when Kurapika had believed his quest was over, he’d discovered he hadn’t felt happy at all. All he’d felt was empty and lost and desperate for meaning. He’d always known that even a perfect revenge entirely on his own terms wouldn’t have taken away his pain or anger. He’d always known it wasn’t going to make him _happy_.

...And yet, something as deceptively simple as a familiar, friendly face would catch him off guard and fill him with light and a rush of feeling that he wasn’t stupid enough to claim wasn’t true happiness. He immediately distrusted it, because the ability to feel happy despite his life of tragedy contradicted the image he needed to hold of himself in order to accomplish his goals.

Kurapika replaced his instinctual joy at the sight of Leorio with the next available emotion vying for dominance within him: near crippling anxiety. He was running early because he’d been hoping for a moment to collect himself alone outside before having to face Leorio and this supposedly “real” date Leorio was planning to take him on. But, Leorio hadn’t been kidding about being ready and waiting. There was nowhere to hide on the street, no groups to trail in the wake of, no angle of approach that would limit Leorio’s ability to perceive Kurapika’s arrival. The moment Leorio saw him, the prelude would end, and Kurapika would have to face the first date he’d ever been taken on in his life.

“Hi, Leorio,” said Kurapika. Despite Kurapika’s trepidation and the difficult decision he’d made on the way over _not_ to duck into an alley for ten minutes in order to create an artificial delay, Leorio hadn’t looked up once from the sales paper. It seemed a surprisingly long time to spend reading the week’s offers. Was 300 jenny off on bagged bread really so engrossing?

“You’re early,” said Leorio. He grinned as he folded and pocketed the sales paper. “Couldn’t wait, could you? Here, follow me.”

Instead of leading them down the street in any particular direction, Leorio ushered Kurapika into the apartment building. Kurapika followed hesitantly.

“I thought you said we’d be walking.”

“We will be. There’s one thing we have to do first.”

“Did you cook dinner?”

“No, I haven’t cooked you anything. What little I know how to cook isn’t worth serving to another human being.”

“Then why are we staying in the apartment?”

“What makes you think I’m taking you to the apartment? We haven’t been dating that long, Kurapika. Slow down.”

Kurapika was glad Leorio was taking the stairs ahead of him and hadn’t looked back to witness Kurapika nearly stumble over his next step in stunned mortification at this suggestion. For all his talk earlier that morning about knowing how dating worked, Kurapika had just betrayed his true feelings.

It turned out Leorio was taking them to the roof, which he’d mysteriously procured the keys to access. It wasn’t clear if he’d stolen them, thrown his Hunter License weight around, asked nicely, or paid. Leorio didn’t comment on it. Kurapika didn’t care enough to ask. He assumed Leorio had asked nicely, because Leorio was terrific with people when he chose to be. People trusted Leorio. So did Kurapika.

“I didn’t realize this building was so tall,” said Kurapika once he’d stepped out on the roof and Leorio had shut the door behind him. “Or well, that the buildings around it were so short.”

“You can see pretty far up here,” explained Leorio. “There’s a reason I brought you, but I want to see if you can guess without me having to spell it out. Let’s call it a pop quiz. Can you locate the potentially romantic thing in this picture?”

Kurapika wasn’t one to pass up a quiz. What did he read all those books for if not to mold himself into the superior mind that outshone all others he interacted with? Determinedly, he looked around him. First, he checked if Leorio had set anything up. There was a grill in the corner, but it was full of cobwebs and debris and showed signs of prolonged disuse. The plastic chairs and rusted card table leaning against the hut of the entrance appeared similarly abandoned. All he saw was an empty and littered rooftop, occupied by him and Leorio for some yet unapparent reason.

It was cold up so high from the street, and Kurapika pulled his coat closer to him. He directed his gaze out to the undulating waves of distant rooftops and power lines that made up the city’s canopy. The occasional tower rose up, thin and sharp and ornately detailed, but the skyline itself was uninspiring. Behind him, in the opposite direction from the blinding sunset, a cluster of skyscrapers glimmered and reflected the dwindling rays of light on their glass-sheeted sides. He supposed they were impressive, but they definitely weren’t romantic.

Kurapika walked to the edge of the roof next and looked down to the street. Between the buildings a dim twilight had already arrived. There was a brilliant channel of light cutting down the main east-west thoroughfare a block over, ending at the entrance of a museum that had once been a palace. Kurapika shrugged and turned back look around the rooftop once more, but there didn’t seem to be anything special. Leorio hadn’t whipped out some surprise as a joke while Kurapika’d been distracted. He was just standing there, hands in his pockets and stamping his feet in the cold, watching Kurapika and waiting. Their eyes met.

“Have you figured it out?” asked Leorio.

“I guess this is a tall building with a commanding view of this neighborhood,” said Kurapika, not convinced this was the reason, but not sure what else he was expected to see.

“You’re pretty close.”

“This city isn’t especially famous for its attractive rooftops.”

“Come on, Kurapika. Think more of stuff that’s romantic, not everything that isn't. We’re losing daylight.”

Kurapika made a little hop at the sudden realization and quickly turned around. It was then that he finally gave the blazing and magnificent view of the setting sun more than a cursory glance. He observed it silently for a moment, not because he was ashamed to admit he’d missed something as obvious as the ball of fire in the sky that kept nearly all life on the planet alive, but because he sincerely had nothing to say. Like every other organism with a total lack of either a poetic or artistic bent, he took the sun for granted and had never made time to watch it rise or set or do much of anything. He spared it the occasional, bitter thought when it blinded him while driving, as well as when he needed it to ascertain which direction was north without a compass. In the city and on the forested Nostrade Estate, the sun was merely an intensity of light that fluctuated throughout the day before abating and leaving all matters of illumination up to electric lamps. In the summer it was hot, and in the winter it went too fast. That was all.

“Aren’t sunsets sort of a final thing?” asked Kurapika after a pause. “Sort of the end of something?”

“Depends which side of them you’re standing on,” said Leorio. “They’re the end of the day, sure, but the night has only just begun. And sundown is when dating starts, because people have day-jobs.” 

There was the crunch of heavy soles against the grit that covered the rooftop as Leorio approached and rested a hand on Kurapika’s shoulder. Kurapika looked over curiously, but Leorio was watching the sky. “See, the end and the beginning are reversed,” said Leorio. “When dawn breaks, it’s the end. Sunrise isn’t so romantic, because when it arrives, you have to remember everything you need to do for the day. The spell of the night, so they say, is broken. Because people have day-jobs.”

Kurapika laughed. He didn’t feel it as the hand resting on his shoulder became an arm around his shoulders. Vaguely, he noticed he was warmer.

“Plus,” Leorio continued, “it’s hard to tell when to walk away from a sunrise. The sun rises, and you think it’s pretty, but you still wonder in the back of your mind how long until it’s technically over and you have to go back inside and start the day. How much sunrise is enough sunrise? When does it just become sunup, morning? At sunset, however, the sun is gone. The show’s over. Time to go out and flirt over terrible pasta.”

Kurapika became intensely aware of the arm around his shoulder once he remembered he had to go on a date after this. He focused harder on the colors spanning the sky in a gradient of orange and yellow and periwinkle toeing indigo blue. He swallowed and reminded himself that this was normal. He and Leorio had used to sit side-by-who-cares-if-we’re-touching-side all the time on trips, had rested hands and arms on shoulders without asking, embraced, and been overall quite blasé about each other’s physical proximity. It was important to remember that that hadn’t changed.

“Sun’s down, time to eat,” said Leorio several minutes later. “This roof’s going to get really dark if we stand here until the light’s all gone. I don’t want to step on something corroded and contract tetanus. C’mon.”

Kurapika followed Leorio back inside and down the stairs. In a few minutes, they were on the street, where the onset of night had already established itself for some time. Leorio filled in most of the conversation as they walked, as easygoing as any set of friends meeting for dinner. So far, minus the romantic implications of the sunset, Kurapika wasn’t feeling very courted. A date mustn’t be so hard if it only required putting up with Leorio being himself for a few hours. Kurapika had had to put up with Leorio for entire days in the past. This was nothing compared to the Hunter Exam where they’d met. Back then, they’d been almost constantly together and had knew each other even less.

“I want you to know I’m going easy on you,” said Leorio as they entered a restaurant that was understandably rather empty, seeing how it was a weeknight of no particular importance. “The street’s loud, but here it’s nice and quiet and calm. It’ll facilitate my effort imparting my very specialized knowledge onto you. Have a seat.”

The two sat on opposite ends of a small booth table and were brought menus. Leorio suggested ten things Kurapika shouldn’t order, not because they weren’t suitable for dates, but because the restaurant was terrible and those were the worst dishes. Kurapika wanted to know why Leorio had chosen a restaurant he considered terrible, and Leorio answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“There’s less people, less pressure, and it gives us something to talk about when the food is bad. Also, _so cheap_.”

Kurapika should’ve expected price would’ve played a factor. Leorio was not going to waste good money on a fake date with one of his best, and luckily rather forgiving in these matters, friends.

“First, I want to get a common misconception out of the way,” said Leorio. He held up the menu, gesturing to its far too plentiful rows of contents. “Now, you might’ve heard before people saying don’t order anything with garlic on a date and other such nonsense, and let me tell you; those people are amateurs. Dating is all about getting to know a person, so, instead of pretending you can read the mind of someone who’s potentially a complete stranger to you, ask them. Ask them if they want any of the more pungent options on the menu, because who knows? Maybe they kinda want the garlic shrimp. And maybe you want the spaghetti aglio e olio. But for the sake of not offending anyone, you were both going to forgo your first choice for something tamer, more ‘date appropriate’. The thing about garlic, though, is that if you both eat it, you’re golden. You just need to communicate. You aren’t here to show off or be perfect, not if you’re looking for a relationship that’s actually going to be enjoyable to be in. You’re here to meet someone and see if you want to meet them more often.”

“Neon and I have already met, unfortunately.”

“You still need to communicate, and that doesn’t end with the first date,” said Leorio. “That’s your first lesson: You need to engage people in conversation, learn about them, be interested in their lives. Currently, you have no interest in Neon at all, or you already know most things she could tell anyone about herself, because your job is literally to follow her around. But at the same time, you know very little. Hell, you’ve never listened to Black Planet. That’s what Neon’s been doing all day, and you don’t even know a single song by them.”

Kurapika shrugged. “I don’t need to like everything she likes.”

“You don’t have to, that’s right. Good for you. But you have to give at least half a damn and maybe listen to a song or two. Though, I suggest if you do listen to Black Planet, set aside an hour. Trust me. You’re gonna need all sixty glorious minutes of it.”

“Fine. I’ll try them out. I’m pretty sure you’re just trying to get me to listen to Black Planet, though. I don’t think Neon has anything to do with it.”

Leorio feigned obliviousness and turned his menu back around to read. The two decided what they wanted, making sure the flavor profiles were compatible in order to maintain conversational harmony over the small table. Once the order had been placed, Leorio directed attention to back to the main lesson.

“This is where it’s going to get difficult for you, Kurapika,” said Leorio. He seemed to be enjoying himself tremendously as he spoke. This is did not bode well.

“Just go ahead and tell me what it is.”

“You need to look me in the face and tell me something nice. Possibly pertaining to my appearance, because whether it’s the first date or the fiftieth, two people who are going out are always _checking each other out_. Compliments about what a great guy I am, while appreciated, are not the kind of stuff that immediately comes to mind on a date. You tell that stuff to people when you’re going to marry them or move in together and want to illustrate what it is about them that has convinced you they’re worth the extra step. Or, and don’t ask me why, it’s the kind of stuff you write on post-it notes and stick on their stuff so they can find it later and feel good about themselves, courtesy of your undying love for them. Stuff about how a person looks or how entertaining they are is more befitting a date, because you don’t have to be in love with someone to find them hot and fascinating. Them being hot and fascinating to you is why you asked them on a date in the first place. That’s a given, which means you can say those things with very low risk of coming off as too much. It’s important those aren’t the only things you say, of course, but as you already know how to conduct a decent enough conversation with a fellow human, we’re going to focus on the compliments until you get them right.”

“I wouldn’t have any idea what to say,” said Kurapika as embarrassment consumed him. “I don’t normally think about how you look, not in that way.”

“Well, you better start, because I’m giving you until you finish your plate to think of something nice. Should be plenty of time.”

As though on a cue, Kurapika’s plate arrived. Leorio waited five minutes for his own to follow. In the meantime, he encouraged Kurapika to eat, as Kurapika wasn’t about to filibuster his obligation by going at a snail’s pace. Kurapika dutifully consumed his mushy, overcooked noodles and told Leorio he was right that the food was terrible. 

Kurapika wished to abandon the plate, but persevered, because while he ate, he could watch Leorio. He did so openly. Whenever Leorio looked up from his meal and caught Kurapika’s eye, Kurapika made no effort to look away. He wanted Leorio to know he was being scrutinized. He wanted his gaze to bore into him while he tried to eat his food in peace. This dinner would not be a peaceful one for Leorio. Not when Kurapika was forced to come up with a compliment on his appearance as though he actually cared what Leorio looked like.

“I’ll start, so you can see how easy it is,” said Leorio after pushing his plate away. Kurapika stopped with his plate still half full, unable to continue with pasta in such a state.

“I’m a little worried,” Kurapika admitted, “about what you think.”

“Don’t be. You’re beautiful.”

“Seriously?”

“So much it hurts every time I see you.”

“Shit, Leorio,” said Kurapika. For all the staring he’d directed at his dinner companion beforehand, he couldn’t even look at him now. “That’s laying it on a bit thick.”

“Hey, it’s all or nothing in the dating world, Kurapika. Now, return the compliment.”

“Fine. You’re…tall.”

Leorio rolled his eyes. “And my eyes are brown and my hair is brown and I’ve got ten fingers….”

“I mean you’re…well, you’re, I dunno.”

“I’m what?”

“You’re…an idiot. I’m not going to make up lies about you just to flatter you.”

“I never told you to lie.”

“But you just now told me, you said…I was….”

“I also didn’t say you couldn’t employ a little hyperbole.”

“Oh thank god,” said Kurapika, truly relieved. “I was worried you were saying it literally hurt you to look at me.”

“It does.”

“What?”

“It’s called a headache, Kurapika, and you’re constantly giving me one.”

Kurapika gapped at Leorio in disbelief as Leorio chuckled over his own joke. “Shut up, Leorio,” said Kurapika. “That’s not a compliment at all.”

Leorio nodded and admitted Kurapika was right, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. The look on Kurapika’s face had been worth it.

“Tell me a nicer compliment than how tall I am,” said Leorio. “I mean, yeah, sometimes people will literally tell you how tall you are like it’s something they’ve got to commend you for, but dammit, I expect more from you. You’re smarter and more observant than that.”

Kurapika strained to find something to say. “Okay…” he started off, speaking slowly, but sped up as nerves got the best of him. “You have a great smile. Which I guess is good for you, because you’re constantly laughing at your own stupid jokes. At least you have the decency to be attractive while being insufferable. So…good for you.”

The first thing Leorio did was force himself not to smile, just to spite Kurapika. Kurapika was ready for this and, not for a moment considering the absurdity of the gesture, pulled a face where he crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out to the side. Leorio, who in all their previous experience had never taken Kurapika for an idiot, nearly leapt from his seat to the ceiling. He then began to laugh, although the stupid face was already gone. Kurapika couldn’t hold it and laugh at Leorio’s reaction simultaneously.

“K-kurapika, why?” asked Leorio with his head in his arms where he’d buried it. “Where did that come from?”

Kurapika shrugged, not sure how to explain himself. “I…don’t know. I haven’t done anything like that since I was a child.”

“What the hell inspired you now?”

“Well, I’m not funny,” said Kurapika thoughtfully, “but I had to figure out a way to make you laugh. I decided to monetarily distort my expression.”

“I can’t tell if I find that’s hilarious, or if I’m actually having a panic attack. Thank god I wasn’t still eating. I could’ve choked and died. You could’ve killed me, Kurapika.”

“You’re Hunter, Leorio. It’d be embarrassing for you to die that way. You should be prepared for anything.”

“Not this,” said Leorio. “Never this.”

It took a while, but eventually Leorio stopped laughing enough to accept the bill and divided it between him and Kurapika. They left the restaurant shortly after. Leorio said they were headed to the park. Here, the final phase of the date would take place. Kurapika used this statement as evidence that the date wasn’t as “real” as Leorio had said if he was openly dividing it into phases like it was the Hunter Exam. Leorio criticized Kurapika for remaining so focused on “real” and “fake” when the most important thing was that this was a date, plain and simple.

“This last part of the date is where we’ll start with the first steps toward physicality,” said Leorio. They passed under an archway indicating the park’s west entrance. It was dark, but this corner of the park was still plenty full with families and joggers and people walking their dogs. Leorio had to think fast to dodge a speeding child on roller-skates. He yelled after them to watch where they were going, and that he’d come after them if they tried to run him over again. He grumbled about it as he led Kurapika to the more secluded paths further in.

“Knowing you,” said Leorio once they were deep in the park, “this will be even harder than compliments. What I’ve heard from Senritsu is that you avoid physical affection the hardest of all the types of affection you need to express. It’s the most obvious sign of how uncomfortable you are, to the point people can see you aren’t just shy, you’re actively shunning Neon.”

Kurapika buried the bottom portion of his face in his scarf guiltily and watched the path in front of them. He buried his hands in his coat pockets and inched to the side, away from Leorio.

“Don’t be so skittish, I’m just going to hold your hand right now. You’re not helping yourself acting like a child.”

Kurapika sighed and gradually inched back until his shoulder was so close to Leorio that it occasionally brushed his arm. They walked on further, and fellow park-goers became sparse. Reluctantly, Kurapika removed his right hand from his coat pocket and let it hang for Leorio to take. Leorio did so without airs.

“See? This isn’t terrible. We’re wearing gloves, too, so you don’t have to worry about cooties or whatever it is that makes holding my hand so repulsive.”

“It’s awkward, not repulsive. I haven’t held hands with anyone since I was a child.”

“I remember you saying you haven’t pulled any ridiculous faces since you were a child, too. I guess that means today you get to relive your youth.”

Kurapika’s step faltered. At the same time, Leorio realized the unintended implication of what he’d so carelessly said. His grip on Kurapika’s hand tightened, and he pulled Kurapika after him to a bench. There, they both sat down, and Leorio let Kurapika go. He lit a cigarette and took a draw before he said anything.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m the one who keeps saying I haven’t done things since I was a child. I wasn’t even thinking about it. Actually, I was a very outgoing child. I did a lot of stupid stuff. You might find that hard to believe.”

“Really? I was very serious and quiet as a kid.”

“Serious, I can imagine. Quiet, feels like you’re lying.”

“I had little to say. My only two interests were football and piano. Then, I hit puberty, ditched the piano, and got popular.”

“You were popular?”

“I was tall and my facial hair came in well. I was popular until money and cars began to matter, and then I had to get by on my terrific personality. In high school, though, my friend died, and I got angry and hated everything, and it just got worse the harder I tried to become a doctor. I have no idea if it made me less popular. I didn’t care about it, or much of anything. Classmates I barely remember still ask my mom how I’m doing when they see her, though, so I guess I wasn’t totally forgotten.”

Kurapika scuffled his feet on the gritty packed earth beneath the bench, but reached up and offered Leorio a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The comment he normally would’ve made about the irony of a smoking doctor went unsaid. He waved to a breathless woman who jogged passed briskly with a dog and wished them a good evening. After a few minutes, he checked Leorio’s watch and saw it was already a quarter past seven. He stood once Leorio’s cigarette was spent and pulled Leorio up after him by the elbow. They recommenced their stroll deeper into the park.

“How do you know when to hold a person’s hand?” asked Kurapika as they passed through an alley of bare, dry hedges that in summer lined the path with walls of flowers and greenery. “In TV and movies, the guy just does it suddenly, and the girl is glad, but also like, pleasantly surprised the guy’s holding her hand? It’s a sign he’s liked her all along? That always seems odd to me. How does that guy know? What if the girl doesn’t want her hand held? I mean, I don’t want anyone I barely know touching me, much less holding my hand. It slows me down. It ruins my pace.”

“Well, sometimes things click and you can tell,” said Leorio, his voice and eyes brighter after his cigarette. He and Kurapika walked closely again, even butting into each other lightly when passing around puddles. Both sets of hands remained firmly in their respective coat pockets, however.

“It depends on who you’re with,” Leorio continued. He began kicking a large, pale stone along with them. Kurapika assisted whenever it veered too far to the left. “You can’t always go grabbing people’s hands, especially at the start of getting to know them. That makes sense in movies, but in movies you know the two people are in love anyway, so the awkwardness isn’t really pronounced. In real life, you’re just better off doing what it is you do anytime there’s something you want: _you_ _ask_.”

“That doesn’t seem all that romantic.”.

“Forget that kind of ‘romantic-ness’ built on some magically intuitive sense of spontaneity; it doesn’t exist. It’s best to ask, and also, have a follow up activity. It’s all about the next step, okay? Maybe there’s like an ice-cream stand ahead, and so if they let you hold their hand, you lead them there. If they get nervous or say no, then you can be like ‘okay, that’s cool, want to get some ice cream?’ and you just move on without dwelling on the rejection. You keep smiling, you get the ice cream, and everyone moves on.”

“But what if she doesn’t want to get ice cream?”

“What?”

“She says no, you try to recover with ice cream or whatever, but she doesn’t want that either.”

“You gotta think on your feet, keep moving onwards, find something to do. I can’t guide you through every possible scenario you might come across. Thinking ahead is one thing. God-like powers of omniscience, on the other hand…. And anyway, if the person doesn’t like anything you suggest, then maybe you shouldn’t be dating that person, and now you know. Some people just aren’t going to work out.”

Kurapika stepped aside to reach the stone where it had landed with Leorio’s last, more distracted kick. “Neon seems the kind of girl who doesn’t want you to ask anything,” he said. “She seems to expect the perfect guy to just automatically know what to do. I brought her plum velvet lilies her dad paid for, and she told me I was finally getting it right, and then took like fifty selfies with them. I just think she likes the big gestures and the drama. Candy and flowers and matching clothes. Stuff she can photograph for her friends.”

“She’s a child,” said Leorio. “Of course she thinks like that. She has no idea how relationships are. She only knows how they look on TV. Same as you.”

“At least I’ve read stuff that’s more realistic than what she watches.”

“Maybe you have. But do you know what the difference is between what we’re doing now and what a romantic couple does?”

“No.”

“Practically nothing. Sure, if we were dating we might be holding hands a bit more, or we might stop and kiss under a tree. My personal style isn’t to breathlessly remind a person of my love as we walk through a park. I’ll walk at their side, content and enjoying their company, and maybe if there aren’t too many people around to make it uncomfortable, I might say ‘I love you’ once, but that’s it. And that would be the only obvious difference.”

“It’s not important to me what real couples do.”

“Well, I’m just letting you know so Neon’s childishness doesn’t put you off relationships entirely. You know, in case you ever find yourself wanting to be with someone but worried you’ll have to read their mind and buy them roses and chocolate every other day to keep them happy. I want you to know those things have their place, but alone they don’t constitute something as complicated as a real relationship.”

Kurapika was tempted to ask Leorio where he got the authority to decree what “real” and “childish” relationships entailed. At the same time, Kurapika knew it was too personal a question. There was the chance that Leorio would answer, and that the story wouldn’t end well. Kurapika told himself he would never ask where Leorio had learned anything specific about dating, even though moments like this would arise, where his curiosity begged him to ask.

Far away, winding in a murmur through the trees, the voices of park-goers on running tracks and playgrounds rose and fell. They were like televisions set to fifty different stations in another room. So many strangers with so many voices: snippets of words, names and shouts of laughter, an admonishment directed at a child, someone commanding a dog over and over to heel though the dog clearly had no mind to. And yet, in the dim space between the light posts of the interior path they were on, it was like Kurapika and Leorio had been left completely alone. The rumble of a bicycle approached from a further branch of the path ahead, but stopped before arriving as someone announced that it was too dark and the cyclist was going to hit someone riding so fast.

“We should be heading back,” said Leorio once they’d completed a circuit. “It’s going to take me almost a half hour to walk home from here, and you have a forty-five minute drive.”

Kurapika smiled, a rush of relief flooding through him and showing on his face. He was relaxed enough to kid around, to go back to relating to Leorio more as a friend than a date.

“Ah, so this isn’t one of those dates that ends in your apartment, then?”

“Nope,” said Leorio, not even slightly scandalized. “I texted Senritsu the itinerary earlier, so there’s going to be a car waiting for you in Battiato Square. Should take us about ten minutes walking to get there. Then, you’re free.”

“And that’s it? That’s the date?”

“That’s the first date. You better have been taking notes.”

“But we didn’t really do much of anything?”

“Yep. I’m not kissing you goodnight, either. Sorry to let you down.”

“So what was the point?”

“The point is that learning is a process, and it’s going to take more than one lesson.”

Leorio reached out and ruffled Kurapika’s hair. Kurapika swatted his hand away sourly. “Really, Kurapika,” he said. “Dating isn’t all that hard. But, you and your over-thinking brain, they aren’t letting it be easy. It’ll take awhile to get through to you. You’re still very childish about things.”

“I’m almost nineteen.”

“It’s not about how many years you have or, in your unique case, how many books you’ve read. Dating is all about relating to people and creating intimacy… _on purpose_. You’re fucking terrible at that. You don’t even make friends; friends happen to you. How are you supposed to date if you don’t ever choose to get close to anyone, even just for friendship? When you choose to not even get close to the few people you actually consider to be your friends?”

Leorio pointed a thumb back at himself and tried to look hurt.

“It’s not as easy as you think it is,” said Kurapika with a tired sigh as he gave up on trying to get his hair to lay properly again. “I actually put effort into it. If I make it look easy, it’s because I’ve had years of practice avoiding people.”

“Well, I guess everyone’s got to be good at something,” said Leorio. He took out another cigarette when they reached the street, but didn’t light it. He implied it was for the walk home. Right now he just wanted something to do with his hands.

“Maybe you can hold my hand,” said Kurapika. “I’m actually really bad at walking normally when I’m holding hands. Neon hates it. She says I look like a weirdo.”

Leorio grinned and slipped the cigarette into his pocket. “You realize the date has ended, right?” he asked.

“This isn’t the date part; this is the training. You’re a lot taller than Neon, so maybe it’s not ideal. She’s about as tall as Linsen, but I don’t how I’m going to ask him to hold my hand.”

“Just look him in face and say, ‘Linsen, can you please hold my hand?’”

“And if he says no, I play it cool and ask him to get ice cream with me.”

“Excellent! You took notes,” said Leorio proudly. He held out his free hand for Kurapika to take. “Now commit to this proposed handholding. I’m _holding_ you to it.”

Kurapika took Leorio’s hand and lead the way down the sidewalk towards Battiato Square. It was struggle to keep the pace and avoid inadvertently shoulder-checking strangers, despite Leorio’s terrific football reflexes keeping him from any full-on collisions in the more congested straights of the pavement. He stumbled and snapped that Kurapika need to guide, not drag, a person after him. This was another good point about that communication thing that’d been talking about earlier, as well as that giving a damn about the other person thing and paying some damn attention to them. Kurapika apologized and tried to keep Leorio’s presence in mind, but he was soon bickering back that Leorio was blind and not even looking ahead, depending on Kurapika for everything. If he were only more alert, they’d be moving along seamlessly, but no, Leorio was probably gawking at women and shop windows.

As the pavement grew emptier, Kurapika had no choice but to slow down and keep Leorio’s pace. Leorio, who towered above much of the world, told Kurapika that he’d seen exactly what their problem was. Kurapika humored him and listened as he explained that they both had different ways of maneuvering through crowds. Kurapika, who was shorter and narrower, sped up when he approached a large group and cut through them with a weaving motion, wasting no time. Leorio, on the other hand, was tall and relatively broad, which meant he slowed down and made sure to avoid anyone who might run into him. The difference in these two approaches was what had led to their struggle of moments before. Leorio then broke the bad news that, if you were holding a person’s hand, you were going to have to slow down more like how Leorio was naturally inclined to do. It was that, or let go and regroup once the obstacle had been passed.

There was no time to test a different approach tonight, however, as it was nearing the point where Kurapika had to go home. As expected, Kurapika dropped Leorio’s hand once they were in sight of the white boar fountain that marked the center of Battiato Square. Training or no, he wasn’t ready for Linsen or Basho or whoever it was picking him up to see him walking hand-in-hand with…well, anyone, really, but especially not Leorio.

“I’d say we should do this again some time,” said Leorio, “but Senritsu already forwarded me your two week schedule and told me we’re booked for Thursday afternoon. So all I need to say is just, ‘see you Thursday’, right?”

“See you Thursday, Leorio,” Kurapika echoed back.

“Goodnight.”

Leorio waved to the driver he didn’t know as they got out of the car to open the door for Kurapika. He took the neglected cigarette from his coat pocket and resumed his plan of smoking it, walking over to the white boar fountain to take a seat along its rim and watch the goings on of the square. From the corner of his eye, he observed the car starting up and made note of when it finally drove away. 

Behind Leorio, a child shouted and then fell into the fountain, the loser of a shoving match between him and his sister. Leorio turned to see what would develop from this and let the cigarette burn down without more than a single drag. He tossed it aside and went to help the aunt pull the boy from the water and wring out his jacket. He offered to pay a taxi for them to return home so the boy wouldn’t catch cold and gave the boy his dry scarf to keep this neck warm so he wouldn't catch a cold.

Once the aunt and children were in the car and had finished thanking him, Leorio returned to his seat along the fountain. It was too cold with his damp clothes and lack of a scarf, so he headed home a few minutes later, freezing outside by sustained by a warmth inside that increased whenever he remembered the feel of Kurapika’s hand in his, pulling him along stubbornly through the crowds of friends and couples and solitary pedestrians. Leorio now cut through similar crowds with greater ease on his own, but with much less enjoyment. He almost heard Kurapika snapping at him to move his feet, to show some agility, and smiled to himself without minding if anyone saw it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this seed sprouted a [mighty?] fic. This chapter I wrote as a one-shot for the Hunter x Hunter Big Bang 2017 event on tumblr, and then it grew into the over 100k Leopika novel you've been reading so far.
> 
> An artwork for this fic has been posted by tumblr user [venusvanguard](http://venusvangard.tumblr.com). The art can be found [here](http://venusvangard.tumblr.com/post/161217773490/arent-sunsets-sort-of-a-final-thing-asked). It's a scene from the this chapter where Leorio and Kurapika are on the rooftop watching the sunset, and damn, Leorio dresses sharp.


	9. To Try and Not Succeed

Results of Kurapika’s growing ease with romantic gestures were already observable after a week and a half and three more “dates” with Leorio. This had sparked Kurapika's ambition as well as his enthusiasm. He began to pressure Leorio to teach him more, faster, insisting that he didn’t want to waste time on perfecting flattery and communication, because Neon’s friends didn’t care about the quality of conversation between Kurapika and Neon; they only cared about the romance.

“Senritsu told me that you’re getting popular with Neon’s friends again,” said Leorio. He was standing, bent over an array of textbooks spread out across the shut lid of the piano. There was a heavy book balanced in the crook of his arm and a smaller one opened in his left hand. He’d been muttering to himself and using a conductor’s baton to follow a line of text when Kurapika had let himself in. He'd waved the baton sarcastically in Kurapika’s direction to quiet him before he’d started speaking, and Kurapika hadn’t been allowed to say anything for five whole minutes as Leorio finished the paragraph and jotted down a few points in his notebook.

“There’s a rumor,” said Leorio, squinting down at the book on his arm as he tried to divide his attention between Kurapika and studying, “that you’ve even smiled. Good for you. Cold Kurapika is finally beginning to loosen up.”

“That’s because you were right,” said Kurapika. He moved a few portfolios to the floor and claimed a seat on the couch. In moments, he was cutting a perfectly dramatic figure sprawled over the cushions, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a tired sigh that echoed from what he felt was his very soul. “These teenage girls have been taught love at their age means being constantly coddled. Knowing that doesn’t mean I find it any less demeaning, but they do like me better for it.”

“At their age?” asked Leorio. “You mean _your age_. You’re only a year or two older than most of those girls.”

“And that’s why it feels so degrading to treat them like children,” insisted Kurapika. “Sixteen and seventeen for them is nothing like what those years were for me. They’re treated like little kids. Indeed, they seem to want and expect it. They get confused and laugh at me when I try to treat them otherwise. They don’t want to be like adults, despite how close they are to this country’s legal age of adulthood. They don’t know how to deal with it.”

“They’ve never been treated like anything other than children, Kurapika. Very few are expected to run their father’s businesses or take on much responsibility in the future. The ones who are and would get mad at you for treating them like children aren’t swooning over how cute a couple you and Neon make. Your perception is skewed to Neon’s social circle.”

As he spoke, Leorio reached over with his foot to pull a heavy stool towards him. Kurapika covered his ears at the grating scratch of the stool’s legs dragging against the wooden floor. He didn't remove them until Leorio had finished nudging the stool into place and taken a seat.

“Anyway, Neon was raised a princess by a father who never wanted to worry her with business matters, so that’s exactly how she’s going to act,” said Leorio. He waved his pen at Kurapika for emphasis before realizing it wasn’t the baton. He swiftly corrected this and continued. “He won’t let her date until she’s twenty. _I’m twenty_ , Kurapika. She’s going to have to wait until she’s my current age before she’s allowed to date someone for real.”

“I guess…that’s bad for her…” said Kurapika, though it felt like making excuses for someone who was too lazy and spoiled to grow up. He pressed his palms over his eyes and leaned back, watching the soothing blackness behind his eyelids. The cold weather gave him a near-constant headache, especially after spending the early morning patrolling the grounds before escorting Neon to school. He barely remembered half of what she’d been so excitedly telling him and Basho about in the car. Something about a singer or a band. Something about Kurapika getting a haircut to match the singer. Basho had laughed, and then….

Neon had complained for the ten thousandth time that Kurapika needed to sweep her off her feet dramatically and somehow slow down time itself to give her a proper kiss her friends could pan around like cameras and faint over. She thought it would be romantic. There should be a bouquet, a violinist, a lace collar, and Kurapika’s new hair. Birds and angels would sing in chorus, the sun would emerge from behind the clouds that dominated an overcast sky, and a delicate rosebud would open and bloom right on time for Kurapika to pluck it from its vine and present it to her. Preferably from between his teeth.

…Or, well, it had all been something to that effect. Kurapika no longer listened when Neon tried to coach him on what outlandish things he ought to wear or what stupid things he ought to do in order to impress her friends when he arrived at the end of the day to pick her up from school. Kurapika invariably showed up in his black suit, his only embellishment his deadly chains and an earring he never answered a single question about. Recently he’d started to take her hand and kiss the back of it. This had elicited screams from the schoolyard the first time he’d done it, and Neon had been ecstatic. Upon hearing about it himself, Leorio, who’d in fact suggested such a thing off-the-cuff when Kurapika had pressed him for a list of flashy romantic gestures, had cried laughing and poured himself a glass of orange juice so that he could toast his own brilliance.

The shock value of a mere kiss on the hand, however, was short lived. It’d run its course after a week and half, but the memory of its success fueled Neon’s desire for bigger, flashier displays. Kurapika answered her with flattery written by Basho to ensure its poetic sensibility. (Employing Basho’s poetic gifts, while an obvious course of action, had been another of Leorio’s offhanded suggestions, and Kurapika felt like an idiot for not having thought of it himself.) Neon’s friends had cast Kurapika dreamy eyes after he’d finished reciting a short verse on the lithe grace of Neon's fingers as she shuffled a deck of cards between rounds of a game the girls were playing in the winter garden of the estate. 

Kurapika had initially been uncomfortable with the sudden attention Basho’s elegant words had earned him, though they ended up doing wonders for his physical proximity to Neon. Many of Neon’s supposed friends seemed to close in on him the more desirable he became. They tried to strike up conversations with him away from the group, draw his attention by saying silly things that made him look up, and place hands on his arms that he couldn’t recoil from too quickly for fear of coming off as rude. If given a choice between Neon’s friends and Neon herself, Kurapika much preferred the familiar evil, and began to keep closer to Neon without prompting. This hadn’t stopped one persistent friend from repeatedly trying to grab his entire arm in a flirty, familiar way while speaking to him. Neon allowed Kurapika to be miserable and endure this for several minutes before stepping in and telling the girl to give it up already; Kurapika only had eyes for Neon. Kurapika swiftly affirmed the veracity of this statement and wrapped an arm around her shoulders tightly for emphasis.

Alone later, Neon criticized Kurapika for not driving the point of being in love with her home with a kiss or something less platonic. Kurapika swore to her with no expression that his solemn word had been all the emphasis he'd deemed necessary. Neon scoffed and called him a coward. Kurapika didn’t deny it.

“What the hell date is this, anyway, Leorio?” asked Kurapika after the realization that he’d been laying on the couch for a full ten minutes doing absolutely nothing.

“A study date.”

“And what am I supposed to do on a study date?”

“Do you know what Honma’s hematoma is?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, very little.”

Kurapika yawned and lowered his hands from his face. He folded them over his chest and adjusted his position on the couch. “In that case, I’ll take a nap,” he said. “Wake me up in an hour.”

“Have you listened to Black Planet yet?”

Kurapika opened an eye and looked over to Leorio. Leorio scribbled down notes and without looking back.

“Uh, no. Actually, last night I came home late, and Linsen and Basho were watching Black Planet Planet. I had to yell at them. Basho was late for his rounds by half an hour. Senritsu’s out of town with Light Nostrade, but Basho forgot his schedule had been changed to compensate her absence.”

“Poor Basho.”

“I apologized later for yelling. I was having a rough night. Neon wants to go to some party this weekend, but I can’t get in touch with her father to ask him if she’s allowed to go. I’ll probably just make her stay home, in any case. She’ll hate me for it, but it’s my job.”

“That’s a shame.”

“She deserves it. She’s made a new game out of trying to steal kisses from me around her friends, and it’s annoying. She’s never going to succeed. She knows that. My reflexes are too good. She’s kissed my forearm twenty times since Tuesday.”

“Tuesday, as in yesterday Tuesday?”

“She’s tenacious.”

From behind the pile of books, a bemused chuckle emerged.

“Which approaches of hers have you found the most ingenious so far? The inventiveness of a teenager with a clearly defined goal can be extraordinary.”

“Yesterday she climbed a tree at school because for some reason her bag was stuck in the branches, and I had to climb after to save both her and the bag. She wanted to steal a kiss while I carried her down, but unfortunately the best way to carry her down was have her piggyback on my shoulders. We were up there arguing for ten minutes while her friends recited some rhyme about kissing in trees. Apparently Neon was hoping to cling to my chest instead.”

“Like a baby monkey?”

“Evidently.”

“Interesting approach. Daring choice of location, too. What else has she tried?”

“She tried to get two friends to trip me so I would fall on her. The idea was I would put my hands out to catch us, and then I wouldn’t be able to push her away or interfere as she tried to kiss me. But...I don’t trip easy. Or ever.”

“Classic. I also like that she’s got her friends helping her team up against you.”

“It’s not all totally harmless. She literally threw sand. In my face. To distract me. It was from an hourglass she stole from a classroom. Overall, though, her favorite is simply trying to get me to look one way, and then when I turn back she’s right in my face. She’s gotten very familiar with my wrist and forearm from that. Sometimes she just directly tries to grab my face. Or tries to grab my tie and yank me around. Her friends think it’s cute because when she reached for the tie this morning, I took her hand and kissed the top of her head. I told her I’m going to stop wearing a tie around her if she keeps it up.”

“I did say kisses on the top of the head are gentle and sweet and apply to anyone, from babies to grandfathers. That probably made her happy.”

“She swung at me with her purse.”

“Oh.”

Kurapika unfolded his hands and used them to push himself up until he was sitting again. He leaned forward and watched Leorio, waited for Leorio to acknowledge that he had something to say to him directly, something serious. Leorio told Kurapika to wait a moment while he finished copying the final steps of some body cycle Kurapika couldn’t see clearly. All Kurapika had a good view of was an opened book balanced precariously in Leorio’s lap, threatening to fall shut between his narrow thighs.

“I wouldn’t have this problem with Neon if you’d teach me how to kiss properly.”

The book followed its course. There was a hollow thud as it hit the edge of the stool and the tumbled to the floor. Leorio groaned and looked for where it’d landed.

“No,” said Leorio, leaning down to pick up the book. He tall enough to not have to rise from the stool to reach it. “Kissing is your biggest problem. We need to ease into that.”

“But I’m not going to kiss her for the first time in front of an audience. If it’s my biggest problem like you keep saying, it needs the most work. Neon’s idealistic and naïve, but she’s right when she complains that I treat her more like a little sister than a girlfriend.”

“Keep treating her like a sister. For now that’s fine. It’s cute.”

“But I feel things would be easier if I kissed her.”

“Easier in one way, more difficult in others,” said Leorio, grunting as he lifted the book up from the floor without dropping the two he still held. “Kissing isn’t something you do with total nonchalance. My married cousin won’t kiss his wife if either of their parents or family are in the room. Kissing is strange like that. It’s, something ubiquitous and yet at the same time not to be taken lightly. You need a lot of…I’m not sure if it’s experience or confidence, but you need a lot of it for kissing to mean absolutely nothing to you. When was the last time you kissed someone again?”

Kurapika frowned and turned his head the other way to look at the side of the room.

“Look. Senritsu once told me my heart was so kind that I could be a doctor, or I could be a teacher. That’s perhaps foolishly led me to assume far too much confidence in myself and trust my natural instincts in how I’m breaking the topic of dating down for you. But, it doesn’t matter, because you’re stuck with me.”

“I know, and I basically trust that you know what you’re doing, but…”

“We’ll probably get to it next week.”

Kurapika snapped his head back to look at Leorio. Leorio was searching for his lost page in the fallen book and didn’t seem to notice.

“With who?”

“Probably…me. Unless you insist I find a girl.”

“It’s all the same. I don’t like anyone.”

“Then, I guess it’ll be me.”

“Okay.”

The pages of the book in Leorio’s lap slipped past each other slowly, smoothly, as he closed in on where exactly he’d left off. Kurapika observed the long fingers separating the pages, occasionally failing to catch a corner and sliding dryly over the paper until Leorio breathed on the tips to give them more grip. There were so many books, and books always drew Kurapika in. The more the better. He cherished books, even those he’d never read and never would. Seeing Leorio surrounded by so many, focusing in such earnest on the one in his lap with another still balanced on his arm and the third folded half-shut in his left hand, endeared him to Kurapika. Kurapika felt they had an understanding. He wasn’t sure of what.

“Why wait until next week?”

“Huh?” ask Leorio, not looking up.

“Just do it now. Just start today.”

“One step at a time, Kurapika. Learning’s a process.”

“I’ll do it myself, then.”

Kurapika rose from the couch and went to the piano. He took the piano bench and dragged it with him until he was sitting in front of Leorio. Leorio watched him approach over the frames of his teashades, saying nothing, his expression unreadable. Kurapika felt a twinge of nervousness the few times he met Leorio’s eyes. The lids half-concealing those eyes hung heavily, as if Leorio had just woken up from a long sleep. Something about the expression told Kurapika that Leorio wasn’t entirely present. His mind was likely working around medical terminology and anatomical diagrams, not realizing the task before him had changed with Kurapika’s stubborn insistence.

“Do you think I’m just going to let you kiss me?” asked Leorio. His voice was tired.

“Uh…yes.”

“Wait a week. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“I don’t need to. Because you’re not going to do it.”

Kurapika accepted this as a challenge and leaned in closer to Leorio. He could feel a few strands of the long layers of his bangs catch against Leorio’s shorter, combed upwards style. The air between them became insufficient at such close proximity. It was used, exhausted, exchanged between two sets of lungs cyclically with each exhale. For his part, Leorio stared, worn-out and waiting, unsurprised that Kurapika couldn’t close the rest of the distance. Kurapika felt the quiet scrutiny of Leorio’s bored, unblinking gaze pressing down on him. He couldn't decide what to do.

“I thought you were planning on kissing me, Kurapika,” said Leorio. Despite the closeness of their mouths, he seemed to speak without breath.

“Not when you’re staring me down all creepy, Leorio,” said Kurapika. He lacked the same ability to speak without air. In fact, he imagined the aspiration of the consonants physically pushed him back and away from Leorio.

The phone in Kurapika’s pocket began to ring then, affording him a much-needed escape. The ringtone was the Nostrade Estate, meaning it was likely something important. Kurapika sat back on the piano bench to answer while Leorio remained in place, as unchanged and unconcerned as he’d been since had the moment Kurapika had announced he was going to kiss him. Once Kurapika put the phone to his ear, Leorio returned to his book and the quest for his lost page.

“Shit,” said Kurapika after hearing the night’s crisis from Linsen. “I’ll see what I can find out and call you back.”

“Work?” asked Leorio.

“Yeah,” said Kurapika. He hung up the phone with a bitter expression and glanced around the room. “Have you by any chance got a map of the city?”

“I think I have a tourist map from one of the kiosks in Battiato Square somewhere around here.”

Kurapika sighed and began to mutter disappointedly that he guessed it would just have to do.

“…But I have a real map downstairs in the car.”

Kurapika perked up. “Wait, you have a car?”

“It’s a rental,” said Leorio with a shrug. “You didn’t think I’d stay cooped up in this city for my entire break, did you? Also, this rental place has great discounts for Hunters because we’re always—”

“Put your books away and get your coat,” interrupted Kurapika. He was already on his feet and halfway to the door. “We need to go look for Neon Nostrade. She’s run away from home, and I need to hunt her down.”


	10. We’re All Friends Here

No wonder the other bodyguards hadn’t found Neon. Kurapika didn't recognize the house he and Leorio currently glimpsed between the dried trees that lined the winding brick drive of the estate his dowsing chain had led them to. At the gate, Kurapika had stepped out of the car to call at the intercom. He’d recited the names of Neon and her friends as the ones who’d invited him. At Leorio’s insistence, he’d also lied that he’d brought along some alcohol from his father’s bar. Pretending to be checking the labels, he’d then named a few brands Leorio whispered to him from the rolled down window of the driver’s seat. 

The list of liquors, more than the list of girls’ names, seem to have been what had won over the kid who’d answered the call. As the gate opened and he drove through to the dimly lit grounds, Leorio had scoffed at Kurapika and told him he was far too innocent for a mafia employee. Any party a teenage girl had to run away from home to attend was probably not one that’d been condoned by any kind of adult. That meant drinking and a ransacked bar. It meant the drunk kids could always use more.

Kurapika grumbled and crossed his arms sourly, unwilling to admit Leorio was right. Originally, he hadn’t been planning to bring Leorio all the way out here with him at all, but then he’d realized that checking the map for Neon while simultaneously driving would’ve slowed him down. Linsen had notified Kurapika of Neon’s disappearance when she’d still been in transit, and moving targets were much more of a hassle to track. The decision had been made for Kurapika, and he hadn’t even waited for Leorio to ask if he needed help before telling him to get behind the wheel and drive. Leorio hadn’t even questioned it.

“That’s a big damn house,” said Leorio with a low whistle as the driveway expanded into a glimmering marble courtyard. At last, the mansion was revealed, towering above the cleared space for parking that had been lined with fairy lights and rolled away into dead winter gardens on either side. Kurapika peered up curiously at the full four story height of the house from the car window as they passed beneath its shadow in search of space to park. He shrugged and sat back stiffly, unimpressed.

“Not as big as the Nostrade Estate,” he said. “But I guess it’s shinier.”

Kurapika massaged the knuckles of his right hand as the car neared the house, debating with himself whether it was necessary to employ his chains for the task of retrieving Neon from the den of underage drinking and booming dance music before him. He didn’t relish what the scene inside would be, even as he noted the staggering forms of two half-naked teen boys whose torsos had been streaked and scribbled on messily with some kind of metallic paint. They sparkled in an explosion of stuck-on silver glitter as they passed through the beam of the headlights. Leorio read some of what was written on their backs and chuckled. Kurapika wasn’t quite so amused.

“C’mon, Neon’s only just arrived. We haven’t got time to waste.”

Leorio said nothing, but didn’t stop smiling his sardonic smile that grew wider every time he caught Kurapika’s eye. They got out of the car and walk towards the house, and Kurapika decided he wouldn’t need his chains, not if everyone here was stupid enough that even Leorio found them funny.

Everything—every surface, every body, every breath, and inside every lung—was coated in glitter, Kurapika was certain of it. He shouted at someone who approached him and upended a pot of glitter into his hair. The boy, who’d been laughing merrily before, unaware who he must've been dealing with, fled in terror after Kurapika rounded on him with a prominently displayed fist pulled back and read to strike. Leorio placed a hand on Kurapika’s arm to keep him from swinging or storming after the culprit. Instinctively, Kurapika jerked away and snapped that Leorio needed to lay off. Leorio, who Kurapika frequently forgot was physically much stronger than he was, did not let go or lay off, but instead pushed Kurapika onwards, reminding him they needed to keep moving, not stop to pick fights with drunk teenagers.

The music deep inside the house was louder than it had been out in the driveway. It banged and crashed like a storm at sea through the main hall Leorio and Kurapika entered next. It drove every thought from Kurapika’s mind other than a desire to escape its assault, but Leorio’s continued. His tightened grip on his Kurapika's brought him back to his senses before he could turn to leave. Recalling his purpose, Kurapika scanned the faces along the balustrade above and lounging on stairs for any sign of Neon or her friends. He announced with an unhappy shake of his head that he didn’t know anyone. Leorio nodded, and pulled on his arm to get his attention, motioning for him to head deeper into the house before finally letting him go.

Kurapika assumed he and Leorio were going someplace they could speak normally away from the din, but Leorio didn’t try any doors in search of quiet rooms. He paused occasionally to look around, feeling for a general direction before taking them down another hall or up a flight of stairs. Kurapika understood after a moment that Leorio was using extending his aura to help locate Neon, and was ashamed to realize that, even though Leorio appeared to find this entire situation ridiculous, he’d kept his head clear and was actively searching for her. Kurapika pushed down his shock and embarrassment and, most of all, his frustration, chiding himself for having got so carried away by needlessly distracting details when his mission had been perfectly clear.

They found Neon with a group on one of the house’s numerous back terraces, where she was hogging two spots on a cushioned wicker couch that was intended to hold three people. At her feet was Lora, and both were on their phones. Neon had snuck out of the house, terrifying her attendants and throwing her bodyguards into a panic searching for her, only to end up sitting on a piece of patio furniture an hour and half away, doing exactly what she would’ve been doing laying around at home. Kurapika sighed and let his shoulders hang loosely. Leorio patted him on the back in sympathy and pushed him forward, and Kurapika went as directed, dragging his feet.

“Miss Nostrade?” asked Kurapika after crouching down to the level of the armrest her head was resting on so he could deliver his incredulous greeting directly into her ear. The faint smile on Neon’s lips as she read over the messages on her phone flickered into nonexistence. Lora noticed a change in the air and looked up at the same moment, catching Kurapika’s eye. He nodded to her quietly in greeting, and Lora gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

“What the hell, Kurapika!” whined Neon as she lowered the phone and turned her head to look at him. “Can you _teleport_? We literally just got here. It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is this,” said Kurapika. He stood and ruffled his hair so that particles of silvery glitter rained down on Neon like the scales of a hypnosis butterfly. Neon shouted and jumped out of the way, telling him to stop, that she didn’t want it to fall into her clothes and make her itchy.

“You’re such a nightmare, Kurapika,” said Neon, huddling against Lora with her hand out to push him away if he came closer. “Seriously. I’m going to start having nightmares where you just show up everywhere all the time and I can never escape. Except, like, I’m living that nightmare right now.”

“You ran away, Miss Nostrade. I can see perfectly well why you didn’t ask permission to come here, and now I’m going to bring you home. Let’s go.”

“What about Lora?”

“What about Lora?” Kurapika echoed back. “She’s not my responsibility. She can do as she likes.”

“I told her about you. I told her you’re fake,” said Neon. Kurapika looked about the terrace, but noted with relief that no-one was paying them any mind. Even Leorio was facing the other way, smoking with a thoughtful expression as he waited. “She’s going with me to the Moreau Ball as my friend. I don’t need to bring a boy. My dad will let me bring a friend.”

“Lora can’t protect you.”

“I’d rather pretend to date Lora than you. I’d rather step on a poisonous cactus crab and lose my foot.”

“I will forcibly remove you from this party, Miss Nostrade.”

Neon looked to Lora, who so far had remained very quiet and very still, shaking her head to Kurapika behind Neon’s back. Neon swing back her arm and wrapped it tightly around Lora, daring Kurapika to pry them apart.

“You can’t drag us both!”

Kurapika sighed and decided he might have to try. He took a step forward, but was stopped by the sound of Leorio clearing his throat judgingly.

“If you aren’t planning to help me, keep it to yourself,” snapped Kurapika before Leorio could remove the cigarette from his mouth to speak.

“You and Neon need to talk. I’ll keep an eye on her friend.”

“You can’t make me go with him,” said Neon. “He’ll drag me out of here. Like literally. Like _bruises_ , okay?”

“What, and leave me behind with no way to get home?” asked Leorio. “I've got the keys to the car.”

Neon frowned in confusion and craned her neck back to see Leorio better. “Who even are you?” she asked, regarding him coldly. “Some new bodyguard?”

“No. I’m Kurapika’s friend. I drove him here.”

Both Neon and Lora froze. As one, they spun around to Kurapika, who was already turning away with his face hidden behind his hand. Neon released Lora instantly and hopped up from the couch to follow after him. She hovered over his shoulder, repeating his name with irritating persistence to get his attention, until he finally stopped in a corner where the terrace rail met a decorative pillar, and they could talk more easily.

“That’s your friend, Kurapika?” asked Neon excitedly. “You actually have a friend? What? And he’s so tall. He makes you look so little.”

“Don’t worry about him.”

“Were you supposed to be hanging out with your friend tonight? That’s so…crazy normal. It’s so weird. Imagining you, just hanging out. Being a guy. Wow. He must be, like, the most laid-back guy ever if he can stand being your friend. Look at him talking to Lora, oh my god. He looks kinda sweet. How the hell do you have a nice guy like that as a friend? I thought you’d hang out with people like my dad all the time, all serious and super old.”

Kurapika hoped Neon would be quite done soon, but it seemed the topic of Kurapika’s friend had captivated her interest entirely. Her petulant whining and temper of a moment ago had evaporated in the intensity of her fascination. It was a rare occasion to witness even a sliver of Kurapika’s private life, so naturally, everything else was promptly forgotten.

“Oh, that’s a really nice smile, too. He’s kind of dorky with those weird glasses, and smoking is kind of gross, and his facial hair kinda makes him look skeevy, but like, he’s so real.”

“Real…” muttered Kurapika under his breath, not sure what that was supposed to say about Leorio. “Yeah, right. Real.”

“How long have you been friends with him? What’s his name? Where did you meet? Is he a bodyguard, too? Where’s he from? How old is he?”

Kurapika ignored every single question asked in a volley, which was apparently fine, because Neon began to invent her own answers instead. She deduced that he and Leorio must’ve been friends since they were kids. That they hung out at bars, and Leorio was more successful with girls, so Kurapika didn’t even try. Leorio’s stature and eccentric appearance meant he was probably from a rich family and some kind of artist. That, or he was just a boring office worker who had a deep inner life expressed through some dedicated hobby like the electric guitar or whiskey. He was also obviously a foreigner, because only foreigners rolled their own cigarettes and wore tinted glasses in the middle of the night. Tobacco probably wasn’t the only thing he smoked. She guessed his name started with R.

Kurapika neither affirmed nor denied any of this. All he did was nod in slow, unflinchingly honest agreement when Neon asked him if Leorio was kind of a loser. He promised her Leorio was all the kinds of loser.

“The only reason I snuck out was because Fedrick told us that the drummer of Black Planet was here,” said Neon. She was finally done inventing lives for Leorio, and Kurapika was relieved. Neon’s mood was casual now, friendly. The shift didn’t surprise him. Neon’s temper was explosive, yes. At times it could rage for hours until she could no longer physically support it and slept it off like a rampaging toddler. And yet, when she was calm, she was downright serene.

“But then,” Neon continued, “we got here and it was just all these people. If the drummer was here, he’s not here anymore. We figured we’d wait until you found us, but then you got here in like ten minutes, which was insane.”

“You came all the way out here to meet a drummer.”

“He’s funny! He’s my favorite member. Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

“You’re smirking. That’s the same as laughing with you.”

“Laughing is the same as laughing with me, Miss Nostrade. I’m smirking because you’ve ruined Linsen’s night over a drummer, and I’m finding it hard to believe.”

Kurapika shook his head and leaned against the railing of the terrace. He looked out over the lawn full of laughing strangers running around hedges and jumping over, or sometimes racing right through, the several murmuring, illuminated water features in the garden. Further inside the house, music continued to thump at a deafening volume, although out here it was little more than a rumble that grew into words and recognizable hooks whenever someone opened a door somewhere Kurapika couldn’t see.

“My friend keeps trying to get me to listen to Black Planet,” he said. He nodded his head back in the direction of Leorio and Lora. Neon joined him at the railing. Unlike Kurapika, her eyes were fixed upwards, to the sky and the stars that were clearer out here than in the city.

“You’ve never listened to Black Planet? Are you even from Earth, Kurapika?”

“That’s more or less what my friend keeps saying, too.”

Neon laughed. “He’s trying to help you, Kurapika. Take his advice. I refuse to date a guy who doesn’t know a single song by Black Planet.”

“Doesn’t matter if you refuse. You’re stuck with me anyway.” Kurapika took a deep breath and then turned to look Neon in the eye. “I’m sorry about it. Sincerely.”

“Stop it. You make me nervous when you act nice. It feels like you’re up to something. It’s so weird. Almost as weird as finding out you have such a normal, regular guy as a friend.”

“I’m not really all that weird.”

“No, you’re still super weird. But less weird than you seem at first.”

“I guess that works, too, then,” said Kurapika. He offered Neon a small smile, which she returned three times wider. Further away, at the end of the lawn, a rocket shot up into the air and went off above the house. A firework of tremendous size expanded out from the darkness, lighting up the house and the lawn with multiple, silvery explosions. The light rained down, and Neon followed its trail until it was extinguished. She clapped along with the slew of other partygoers while Kurapika’s hands remained holding the railing, his eyes fixed on the distant reaches of grounds.

“How long do you want to stay at this party?” he asked. Neon stuttered before answering, having not expected the question.

“What? How long…?”

“You can’t stay all night,” said Kurapika as he thought it over. “But maybe fifteen more minutes.”

“Cool,” said Neon happily. She leaned to kiss Kurapika on the cheek, and he let her. “Let’s find a party game we can all play. I want to meet your friend and kick his ass at something. He looks like someone who doesn’t win a lot, especially against girls.”

“I’m not sure party games are a good idea,” said Kurapika, trailing behind Neon as she headed back to the dense cluster of people nearer to the house. “There are a lot of strange people here.”

Neon rolled her eyes and grabbed Kurapika’s arm, pulling him after her towards a group huddled around the table she’d been sitting near before Kurapika had arrived.

“Hey, maybe you should play spin the bottle? You can learn how to actually kiss someone right, and the bottle decides who it is for you.”

Kurapika blanched. “That’s a stupid game. None of us are playing it.”

“Your friend and Lora are.”

“What?” snapped Kurapika. He spotted Leorio and Lora half a second later. “Shit.”

“Let’s join them.”

“No,” said Kurapika. He put a hand on Neon’s shoulder to stop her from going to the table.  “Don’t worry about ever getting to know my friend, Neon. I’m going to kill him.”

“You jealous? He’s just having fun. It’s a party. That’s what you do.”

Kurapika wanted to correct Neon that no, kissing games were not fun. They were unhealthy, and a future doctor like Leorio ought to know better than to partake in them. But, he didn’t speak. Unbidden, the memory of his failure to kiss Leorio only hours ago came to mind.

“You don’t need kissing games. I can kiss you whenever it’s truly necessary.”

“It’s necessary more than you think it is, Kurapika. You’re supposed to be my boyfriend. I know you said you’ve never dated before. Do you need someone to teach you? I’d have taught you if you’d have ever asked.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Come here. I’ll show you right now.”

“There are people everywhere. It’s not the time.”

“Who’s watching you now?”

Neon smiled almost kindly and placed a hand on the side of Kurapika’s face in a consolatory gesture that accomplished the opposite. Kurapika made to remove her hand, but hesitated as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Instead of pulling her arm down and away from him, he mirrored her gesture with his own free hand. He used it to steady himself as he leaned forward, coming just as close to Neon as he’d been to Leorio right before Linsen had called and he'd retreated shamefully.

“Well?” asked Neon. Her breath was thicker than Leorio’s, and her question was spoken with the same volume as everything else she’d said so far. Even when she wasn’t speaking, the air around her was warmer, wetter. It had a peculiar smell to it, something Kurapika only distantly recognized.

Then, it clicked.

“HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING?” shouted Kurapika, pushing Neon away and holding her apart from him at arm’s length by her shoulders.

“It was just—” Neon began, but Kurapika didn’t listen to her excuse. The fingers around her wrist tightened into a vice, and he pulled her along after him as he marched up to the table where Leorio and Lora were being fools together. With his free hand, he pushed through the crowd roughly, shoving people aside left and right until he came to the nucleus of the group where the bottle on the table was just beginning to slow its spin. It stopped as he broke through the inner ring of the players’ circle, right in time for it to point directly at him. At the bottle's other end, laughing at the hilarity of the coincidence, was Leorio.

“Funny meeting you across the table,” said Leorio. “You really can’t wait, can you?”

It took a moment for Kurapika to fully comprehend the scene before him. Then, in a fluid movement, he leaned forward, grabbed the bottle from the table, and tossed it away with as much force as he could muster. Everyone at the table watched the bottle cut through the air like a rocket and disappear into the night. It shattered unseen on a balcony jutting out from a floor above. When the crash ended, everyone turned back to Kurapika.

“That was a bit much,” said Leorio, scratching his chin.

“We leave. Now.”

“Did something happen?”

Kurapika told Neon to take Lora’s hand and bring her, or they were leaving the girl behind. Neon did as she was told, but at the same time kept insisting over and over that if she did what Kurapika said and was good, Kurapika shouldn’t tell her father she’d had a drink. Kurapika promised no such thing. Leorio, who was having a successful night judging by the quantity of girls who’d been elbow to elbow with Kurapika hoping to luck into a kiss with him, took a bit more convincing before he was willing to leave. In the distance, another firework exploded.

“I doubt any permission has been granted for fireworks. If the police arrive to this party full of underage drinking, who do you think they’re going to arrest, Leorio? Us. We’re both legal adults in this country, and you’re old enough to buy alcohol here.”

Leorio didn't need more persuading than this. He helped Kurapika escort the two girls to the car and get them inside, practically carrying Neon down flights of stairs as she struggled to move quickly in her awkward, boat-like shoes. In the safety of the car and well on their way to the Nostrade Estate, Leorio speculated that they could’ve used their Hunter Licenses and the fact Kurapika was literally Neon’s bodyguard as excuses, so Kurapika really shouldn’t have freaked out so much. Neon, who'd been silently sulking in the backseat, perked  up and asked if Leorio was really a Hunter, and if she could see his license.

“Don’t answer anything she asks you,” said Kurapika before Leorio could speak. “She’s grounded. Put your license away.”

Leorio, Hunter License already half out of his back pocket, looked at Neon in the rear view mirror and shrugged. Neon called Kurapika an asshole and fell heavily back into her seat in a huff.

“How are you even friends with this jerk?” demanded Neon, kicking the back of Leorio’s seat.

“Would you believe me if I told you sometimes he’s actually a great guy?”

Neon scoffed. This was a no.

“Would you believe me then if I told you I’m a huge idiot, probably?”

In spite of herself, Neon cracked a grin.

“All right, then. We’re friends because I’m stupid.”

“Shut up, Leorio,” said Kurapika. “I already said don’t answer her questions.”

“Your name’s Leorio?” asked Neon. She looked up into the rear view mirror to see Leorio quickly, subtly nod to her in affirmation. Kurapika sighed and reached over, flicking the mirror so that it was pointed upwards and Neon and Leorio could no longer see each other. Neon pouted. Leorio chuckled and watched the road.

“Well…I guess there’s an r in it, at least,” said Neon softly to herself as she pulled out her phone. Lora began to snore softly beside her, the unchecked messages on her own phone ringing out as Neon updated all of their shared group chats with news about her night. Kurapika groaned and wondered how many of the messages were calling him an asshole. He looked over to Leorio, who’d just finished yawning as he hunched over the steering wheel, and wondered what Neon was saying about that idiot as well. Probably that he was tall, funny, charming, cool, kind of a loser, but so real.

Whatever the hell “real” was supposed to mean….


	11. Kiss and Tell How

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive typos in this. This chapter murdered my beta. It's a kissing lesson, and my poor beta swiftly lost the upper hand trying to tackle it.

Neon was grounded. It was official. Light hadn’t taken the news of her partial inebriation mildly, and after her, Kurapika had borne the brunt of his rage. Because of the man’s normally stoic professionalism, it was easy to forget that his daughter had learned the worst of her tempestuous fits of fury from her father. The hour he’d spent standing silent and unresponsive as Light threw objects about the room and howled with anger constituted the second time Kurapika had ever seen Light lose absolute control of himself. Kurapika waited for the storm to pass, just he had before, back when he’d come to find the man crawling on his knees, his study in complete disarray, moaning and laughing and screaming alternately over the fact that he couldn’t afford to pay 2.9 billion jenny now that Neon had lost her gift of fortune-telling.

This time, Light didn’t lay total waste to his office. He destroyed a cell phone, a potted plant, a newspaper, and an antique sword he attempted to run through a chair, but ended up snapping in two when its tip hit the chair’s hard wooden frame. Kurapika hadn’t questioned the reason behind the destruction of any of these items. He already knew there was none.

Neon wouldn’t come out of her room, which was just as well to Light, because he wasn’t going to let her leave it anyway. Kurapika lied to him that the person who was supposed to be watching Neon that night had been him, and not Linsen. Light hadn’t immediately known what to do with this information, hence the destruction of the vase. He’d stuttered stupidly a second, and then grasped the vase from the credenza and threw it to the floor within a minute hearing who it was he needed to “fucking fire”. The problem, of course, was that he couldn’t easily fire Kurapika. When it came to the Nostrade family’s struggling finances, Kurapika carried too great a weight to be let go. If he left, he'd take the family’s ensured financial security with him right out the door, as though it were one of the precious few personal effects packed into his valise.

“Fine. Then your easy days of having only Neon as your responsibility are over. The vacation is done. Apparently this task cannot be trusted to you alone, but rather to a whole squadron of bodyguards like before. You’ll be working full hours again, plus her silly dates, and I’m not paying you overtime.”

Kurapika, who partially oversaw the payroll for the entire estate staff, including the bodyguards, hadn't been paying himself overtime to begin with.

“Yes, sir,” said Kurapika obediently. He went through an act of clenching his jaw and shifting uncomfortably where he stood in order to convey a sense of displeasure he didn’t feel.

“The limit is two dates a week, as well. Word’s getting around the community that you’re involved with her, so you need to make those count, or you aren’t getting into the Moreau Ball with her. And believe me, if not for that damn ball, I wouldn’t even let her leave this house.”

“Understood,” said Kurapika. Light returned to his desk, as satisfied as any disappointed father could be for the time being. He informed Kurapika that he was excused and lit a cigar.

One benefit of Kurapika’s new schedule was that it once more resembled the work schedule of an average bodyguard. The long afternoons he’d struggled to find purpose in had ended, and with them went long morning commutes into the city every few days to conduct business meetings or to sit with Leorio over a terrible meal and try to think of twenty different ways to praise boring brown hair done in a cut so standard it made the top of Leorio’s head something Kurapika wouldn’t have been able to call out in a line-up.

“You have such deep brown eyes, like rich soil, nurturing life in a warm blanket-like embrace of care,” recited Kurapika. He held up a finger to stop Leorio from speaking before he was finished. “The subtle terrain of the serrated points of your straight, dark brown hair is like a range of majestic mountains, standing beautiful in every season. Such average features serve to moderate a rare and outstanding self within. Your dark eyes lack mystery, as they are full of your soul and lit from the fire within that drives you unceasingly forward, burning with a vibrant inner life just below the opaque surface.”

Leorio made a very good effort not to laugh. “Clearly Basho wasn’t available this week,” he said.

“Linsen tried to help,” said Kurapika with a sigh. “He feels like he owes me after I took the fall for him with Light Nostrade.”

“Well, evidently when it comes to poetry, Linsen is one of those people who help out the most when they don’t.”

“I think it’s an admirable effort, seeing how he’s never met you that I can remember.”

“Then I’m left to assume he composed that based entirely on your description of me. Basho compared me to nature as well. I’m beginning to question what you tell people….”

“Basho turns everything into a metaphor for nature. Don’t let it go to you head, no matter how many times he brings up the ‘the heart’s fertile soil embracing the emergent and tender shoots risen from the seeds of nascent trust’ or ‘this rain wept spring of the soul’s rejuvenation’. None of us can figure out what any of it even means. That’s the condition on his Nen ability that makes it so powerful: seventeen syllables is a exorbitantly heavy restriction for Basho to impose on himself.”

“Huh,” said Leorio, owing this information a moment of consideration so he could better adjust the new light through which he now saw Basho. “At any rate, how’s things with your boss? Either of them.”

“Neon’s still grounded, and I’m still pretending to punish myself with early morning shifts so Light sees me first thing every day and assumes I’m up all night, suffering.”

“Good. Are you prepared to actually suffer, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“After witnessing you strike out with both me and Neon within hours of each other on the very same night—and believe me I saw that valiant but ultimately futile effort of yours with her—I’m convinced I definitely need to get you over whatever insecurity is inhibiting your ability to kiss someone.”

Kurapika cringed. He would’ve backed away, except there was no-where to go save for directly into the rowing pond that surrounded their little boat. Every uneasy shift he made in his seat was amplified by the swaying of the boat along with it, forcing him to follow what began as an essentially unconscious movement with some other deliberate gesture that could serve as an excuse and conceal his discomfort. So far, he’d gone with craning his neck, as though spotting something worth a second glance along the edge of the pond. Leorio looked over every time as well, sometimes mockingly, but other times automatically, because despite the unseasonably warm weather of the late winter afternoon, not too many people were out, and the chance that something might be going on that was worth seeing intrigued him. Kurapika brushed nearly every instance off by claiming a bird had caught his eye. Leorio marveled, not without heaps of ironic ridicule, at what a budding ornithologist Kurapika was becoming on this rowing trip.

“You spot another bird?” asked Leorio, inclining his head in the direction Kurapika had just now stared off into. “I’ve only seen pigeons so far. I don’t know what you’re seeing.”

“No, I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

Kurapika didn’t answer. He listened to the smooth, lethargic rowing Leorio performed for the simple and expressed purpose of having something to do with his hands. Sometimes Leorio would pause, and they’d float languidly about the middle of the pond, adjusting the brims of their winter caps in relaxed silence while Kurapika inched ever downwards in his sloping incline against the corner where he sat. Leorio hadn’t let him have another turn with the oars yet. Kurapika hadn’t cared enough to argue, as Leorio’s longer arms made his rowing more effective anyway. They’d spent the first half hour seeing who could maneuver the boat best, make it cut through the water in the straightest line, go the fastest and leave the most pronounced wake, turn on the smallest dime, and spin in the most nauseating circle. As they were one of only six other boats out that afternoon, and the only boat doing anything of note, they’d drawn a bit of a crowd from the old men and women out walking for daily exercise. Leorio had amused a group of children standing along the wall of the pond by pretending there were rough seas and then rocking the boat back and forth violently, threatening to capsize it while Kurapika shouted at him to grow up and swore that if they ended up in the water, Leorio wasn’t ever coming back up out of it.

“You look like an old man.”

Leorio glanced up while lighting the cigarette he’d just rolled on the bench of the boat beside him. The wide brim of his hat and the shade of his glasses allowed him only a narrow corridor of vision, resulting in a jaunty, ironic angle as he lifted his chin to look Kurapika in the eye. He slipped the lighter into his pocket and blew a stream of smoke over his left shoulder to keep it out of Kurapika’s face. Kurapika wrinkled his nose.

“I feel like an old man,” said Leorio with a sigh he exaggerated. “I’m not the burly, virile youth in his prime that I used to be. Now, I’m an academic.”

“You’re twenty, and you’ve never been especially burly, Leorio. And if by academic you mean a dedicated, full-time student who cries openly over admission costs and is bit of a loser, you’ve been that about as long as I’ve known you.”

“I didn’t say I was a loser; I said I felt old. Respect your elders. Being old doesn’t mean you’ve lost. Getting old means you’ve won, if anything. Because, no matter what you want in life, dying overrules any great effort you’ve ever made. I think about it a lot.”

“Death, you mean. Well, that's a morbid turn.”

“Well, as a mere medical student, I’m not sufficiently desensitized to death yet, and so it haunts me. Working with the preserved corpses isn’t even easy, and they’re so wrinkled and ashen, and smell of chemicals so apart from life, that you can put your blinkers on and overlook the humanness. My mother asks me how school is going, how the day was, and I just tell her ‘a lot of gross stuff’—it was a joke, gross anatomy—and I leave it at that. It’s not just a horror show, though. It’s exciting, and I enjoy it, but it can weigh down on you if you apply too much thought to it. People are a collection of systems and biological functions, and that’s fascinating but also unreal. It’s just something you have to get used to, I guess. I’m not totally there yet.”

“I get it. Some things have to be accepted. Lived around. They don’t change for you. You change for them.”

“Yep,” said Leorio with a small smile. He sat back in the boat, jostling it slightly as he rested his arms over the flat plane of the bow behind him. He crossed his right ankle over his left knee and nodded to the oars as he prepared to take another draw from the cigarette. “Your turn to row, Kurapika. My hands are full.”

Silently, Kurapika sat up and took the oars. He rowed them about, just as Leorio had been doing, in slow, wide circles until the hour for the rental was up.

* * *

Kurapika hadn’t needed to ring to get into the building. He’d arrived just as one of the neighbors was leaving, and they’d held the door for him. Now, he stood in the short hall of the landing just outside Senritsu’s [Leorio’s] apartment, rocking back and forth on his heels as he braced himself for what was to come once he knocked on the door and entered. He'd entered a state of Zetsu three blocks away and had crept up the stairs on tip-toe, though he knew such behavior was nothing but a needless protraction of the journey that would lead him to this, his inevitable confrontation with Leorio resulting in the first kiss Kurapika had experienced since he was eleven.

Kurapika hated how much this affected him. He felt betrayed by himself, because up until recently, he hadn’t known that he was somewhat terrified of those actions resembling physical, intimate closeness with another person, even when they were false. Kurapika had thought he was stronger than that. He’d thought something like kissing wouldn’t have affected him at all, because up until now he hadn’t cared about it. He’d assumed he’d continue to not care as such indefinitely. But, he’d been wrong. He cared far too much, and now all the nonchalance of the past revealed to him what it had really always been: a lack of concern drawn from zero experience and the arrogant assumption that he’d never, ever be tested.

Currently, Kurapika was trying to rectify his wrong thinking. It was naïve to believe that, as an adult, he’d be able to avoid all romantic entanglements. A child could easily scoff at the idea of kissing and dating and falling love, but a mature adult knew the place of such things. These were skills Kurapika needed to acquire and accustom himself to, not just for the sake of the farce with Neon, but in order to maintain control of himself in any and all related situations that might arise. It wasn’t safe to maintain the child’s simplistic view, to cling to the ridiculous belief that one could simply opt out of romantic love indefinitely. Even if Kurapika felt nothing of the sort, it didn’t mean others would know that and respectfully refrain from falling for him. He’d have to know how to coldly and methodically deal with such people without stuttering at them inanely because he couldn’t get over the realization of the direction of their thoughts for him. Worse, he might have to use their sentiments against them, play them for fools and use them, and that couldn’t be accomplished if he couldn’t so much as place a finger on their lips without suffering a sudden rush of doubt and insecurity over what he needed to do to lead them on.

Kurapika took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He chewed on his lips as he built up his courage. He’d noticed he couldn’t leave his lips alone now. It was like a psychological tick. He touched them more, questioned them, was too keenly aware of how they felt and how they lay against each other. Normally he only felt so close to his eyes, which defined his race and established his identity as he saw himself within himself before anything else.

“Took you long enough to knock finally,” said Leorio as he opened the door a few minutes later.

“I was checking something on my phone.”

“Sure you were.”

Kurapika entered the apartment as though for the first time. He fumbled with his coat after almost forgetting to remove it and place it in the hall closet. He looked at Leorio, and Leorio gave him a warm, understanding smile. In the living room, the books had multiplied and migrated to the far pastures of the couch and the kitchen island. Kurapika didn’t see anywhere left to sit, so he stood uncertainly and waited for Leorio to offer some direction.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to leap at you right this second. We’re going to set up mood lighting first as a fun activity to make this less awkward.”

“Mood lighting seems worse.”

“No, it’s fun. There’s fire involved. Also, don’t be selfish. I’m nervous, too. So, we’re going to light like thirty candles to set a mood that’ll make this easier for me.”

“We’ll burn this place down,” said Kurapika. He gestured to the books. “You didn’t think this through.”

“I did. Everything is in the bedroom, because I don’t study where I sleep. That’s a great way to give yourself insomnia. Watch your step, the bedroom’s higher than the rest of the apartment.”

Although kissing a person in their bedroom seemed a tad forward, Kurapika nevertheless felt a surge of relief at Leorio’s confession that he was uncomfortable as well. Kurapika made a mental note that no matter how much romantic experience a person had, there was always a base level of trepidation in going into something new. Also, Kurapika wasn’t some girl Leorio had met and hit things off with. Instead, Leorio had to deliberately kiss Kurapika without all the romantic feeling that would’ve made the act of kissing a person easier and more natural. That considered, it was safe to assume this was probably just as weird for Leorio as it was for Kurapika.

“Okay, you weren’t kidding about all these candles,” said Kurapika. Upon entering the bedroom, Leorio had reached behind the door and handed him one of two small bags filled with unopened packets of tealight candles.

“Put some on the sill, the two nightstands, these useless shelves with nothing on them over here, the bookcase of the headboard. Just, you know, any available surface, really.”

Kurapika and Leorio tore open packets and allowed the contents to tumble onto the bed. Kurapika set up the candles in an orderly row on the windowsill, making sure they were all evenly spaced and perfect while Leorio did the exact same with those on the shelves. Both cherished the delay of the inevitable. Against his original snap judgment of this plan as being frivolous and impractical, Kurapika found it actually did a lot to calm his nerves. He quietly accepted the knowledge that Leorio was something of an interpersonal genius. Or, at the very least, he was someone highly tuned in to his feelings and how to cope with them. Kurapika had always had respect for Leorio’s ability to openly express how he felt, even if it was a large part of why he frequently called Leorio a loser to his face whenever the emotion Leorio was expressing was too sentimental.

“Do you have matches? These will take ages to light with a lighter.”

“I’ve got that covered. Check it out. It’s cool. Shut the door and hit the light.”

Leorio sat heavily on the bed, grabbing one of the candles from atop the headboard behind him. He took a lighter from the side table drawer and waited for Kurapika to press the switch. The heavy blinds covering the window permitted no light to pass, and thus the room was plunged into a cave-like darkness that surprised Kurapika with its suddenness. There was the scratch of the lighter and the glow of a flame from where Leorio sat. Kurapika watched and waited. Leorio brought the flame to the wick of the candle, but it didn’t ignite. Instead, one by one, around the room, like flickering dominoes cascading into luminance, the candles were lit. The flame didn’t travel all the way around the room, however. Leorio swore and flicked the lighter again, which had gone out. He lit the rest of the candles on the headboard by hand without any fancy tricks and tossed Kurapika another lighter from his pocket to get the rest of the unlit ones in the room.

“What…did you do?” asked Kurapika with an uncertain laugh, as he was amused but also puzzled as to what had just happened. Although he couldn’t see Leorio turned the other way lighting candles, he imagined he could hear the amused, self-satisfied grin spreading across the man’s face.

“I can transport bits of energy across a distance. Cool trick, right?”

“You used emission?”

“Yeah, and it’s not that easy, either, let me tell you. It’s like opening and shutting a door really fast, but you have to make sure you never trap the flame or, as you see, the Nen suffocates it, and it goes out. I’m not great at manipulating fire, so I have to focus on transporting it as fast as possible before it extinguishes.”

“When did you learn that?”

“I just got bored one day.”

“One day?”

“Okay. An entire bored week.”

“Did you immediately go show it off to a girl the moment you had it down?”

“Nope,” said Leorio. The lighter clattered as he tossed it back into the open drawer. Kurapika finished lighting the last few candles on the shelf. “I don’t know any girls who know about Nen. And anyway, besides keeping my Nen a secret, the more practical reason I haven’t used it to impress anyone is because it would freak a normal person out. Seriously. Consider that a moment. You’re alone with a guy, sitting in his bed, and suddenly just, fire, everywhere.”

“Good point. Though it might charm some girls, I suppose.”

“Depends on the kind of person you’re with. Will they leap into my arms hoping I can somehow protect them from the apparent ghost that has intruded upon us? Or will they knock me over the head with their phone and run for their precious life because I’m a terrifying magician?”

Kurapika laughed and promised he didn’t have his phone; it was in his coat pocket. Leorio ordered him to go and retrieve it, because he might get a call from work like last time. He shouldn’t be getting in trouble with his boss right now, at least not on Leorio’s account. Kurapika obeyed and went out to the living room again, picking his way around the furniture in the dark until he reached the entrance hall. He pulled his phone from his coat pocket and checked it. There was a message from Senritsu asking where he was, but it wasn’t urgent. She hadn’t seen much of him since she’d come home with Light and heard about Neon. Today she'd seen Kurapika had the evening off, and she wanted to know if he was free to go for a run around the estate. Kurapika texted her back that he was hanging out with Leorio and then carried the phone with him into the glowing bedroom.

“Okay,” said Kurapika as he entered. He left the door open, as it was night in the rest of the apartment, and he didn’t like the finality of hearing something click shut behind him. Leorio had changed his position so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. He pointed for Kurapika to sit likewise across from him. Kurapika made a fuss over removing his suit jacket, tie, and shoes first, explaining that he’d come dressed for work because he had a midnight shift and wouldn’t have time to change if he ran late.

“I think the best approach is just to go for it, and then fine tune,” said Leorio once Kurapika had finally inched forward enough that their knees were touching and they were in easy lip-locking range. “I’ll go first and kiss you, really just to get it out of the way, to break the ice. If you start, we’ll be sitting here staring at each other for an hour while you summon the courage—don’t bite your lip; they have to be free so I can do this.”

Kurapika hadn’t even noticed he’d started biting his lip. He apologized and allowed his expression to relax.

“I’m not going to count down. You’ll know. Counting would be awkward,” said Leorio. He rested a hand on Kurapika’s shoulder, and then used it to pull Kurapika closer as he leaned in.

The kiss was short, but Kurapika felt it as though it burned and itched across his lips even when Leorio had already drawn away. Kurapika didn’t know he’d closed his eyes until he opened them and the room flooded back into view. Leorio was watching with a soft look, the way one watched a small child asleep: silently, fondly, a smile sprouting for no-one’s benefit because the one who was the object of such endearing affection didn’t know anyone was there. Kurapika took a deep breath and looked at Leorio determinedly. The secret, affectionate smile widened on one side to an amused grin.

“Okay, so this time try to kiss back,” said Leorio. He pulled Kurapika towards him again without waiting for an answer.

This second kiss lingered as Leorio waited for how Kurapika would respond. Kurapika pressed his lips back against Leorio’s uncertainly. Leorio reacted with a short increase in the pressure on his side, as though greeting Kurapika’s timid response with an embrace, demonstrating that a proper kiss was an exchange of pressure between two sets of lips, giving and taking, asking and answering, interactive without a word to be said. Kurapika hung his head and slumped his shoulders when Leorio pulled away again, as though the kiss had defeated him. Leorio’s arm lowered to embrace Kurapika, while his other hand wove its fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Kurapika allowed his head to fall against Leorio’s chest as Leorio drew him nearer.

“Why does it sort of hurt?” asked Kurapika down into the empty triangle of space between them. He watched the patterns of light move across the wrinkles in the fabric of his and Leorio’s clothes where their folded legs lay over and along each other. His hands in his lap fretted, his fingers weaving in and out restlessly in a fruitless effort to expend the nervous energy that had welled up inside him midway through the kiss, the moment when he’d felt Leorio’s mouth move against his. Now, his chest ached in waves that forcing himself to think reasonably couldn’t suppress.

“Because…because you’re a passionate, sensitive, and, worse of all, a very serious person who hasn’t yet learned to disassociate a kiss from love,” said Leorio. The words came out with a sigh Kurapika had observed as it’d filled Leorio’s chest. “Your body, or well, your heart one could say, wants a kiss to mean something. Your mind knows better. That kind of thing hurts. You’re breaking your own heart taking the romance out of something you’ve probably idealized until now.”

“I didn’t,” said Kurapika. The shake of his head against Leorio’s chest sounded scratchy and far too loud at such a close range. “I always knew better. I’m not that deluded.”

“What you know better and how you persist to feel anyway is always a disaster of miscommunication. The truth is, passionate people are always in pain, though it’s fine because they can’t be any other way. There’s nothing wrong with it. Even happiness aches when you feel it too strongly. And you, you feel everything much too strongly, Kurapika.”

“The only thing passionate about me is my anger.”

“That isn’t possible. You can pretend to pick and choose your emotions, but the passion that drives your anger doesn’t discriminate. It goes into everything you feel. You know that. You feel it.”

“But I don’t love you. Why does this hurt, then?”

“It’s a reaction, a purely physical one. It’s anxiety and the ache of wanting something that isn’t here. It…has nothing whatsoever to do with me personally.”

Kurapika remained a moment longer staring down at nothing, feeling the long fingers stroke his hair but refusing to close his eyes, lest he forget where he was like he had the brief moment he’d felt his lips brushed by the first, barely reciprocated kiss. The nervousness would abate with time, he knew, with familiarity. That was a fact. Anything could be overcome with enough exposure. All emotions could be choked down before rising to the surface. That was why he was here. He was learning the defenses that needed to be in place to confront this very particular, and apparently excruciatingly nerve-wracking, threat.

“Okay,” said Kurapika, setting his hands on his knees and pushing back to an upright position. Leorio released him easily. “I suppose that breaks the ice. Do I kiss you now?”

Kurapika was cold, perhaps too much so, but they both knew he was only overcompensating for the control he’d lost. He didn’t actually feel as curt and collected as he sounded, but continuing to cower in Leorio’s embrace would get him nowhere. Mimicking Leorio’s gesture from the start, he placed a hand on Leorio’s shoulder. Leorio nodded, and Kurapika pulled him down, closer, across the space between them, until Kurapika could feel his breath. He shut his eyes and kissed Leorio. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to see it.

“It’s not like this,” said Leorio after they’d separated again. Kurapika was annoyed to have not got it right the first time and impatiently waited to hear why. “You don’t just pucker your lips and press them forward. A kiss is not a position you hold with your lips and then tap them against something. There’s more active movement than that. You push with the lips around the same time you make contact, not before then. The movement is more a reaction to whatever is near your lips that you’re going to kiss. Here, give me your hand.”

Leorio took the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder and brought it up to his mouth. He turned it over to expose the palm and underside of Kurapika’s wrist.

“Like this is what you’re doing.” He puckered his lips and pressed them once against the palm and then against the wrist. “Here’s more that you should do.” He repeated the procedure, but this time didn’t move his lips down until the skin was already brushing them. “You want to go for the second one. It is more sensual, more the way people who are attracted to each other kiss. Not how like an auntie in a hurry kisses your cheeks before dropping you off at the mall.”

“I got it,” said Kurapika. The knot in his stomach loosened as he listened to Leorio’s casual explanation. His classification of these two sorts of kisses returned the act of kissing to realm of the banal, the easily broken down and understood, something Kurapika could store as information in his mind. 

Kurapika kissed Leorio again and noted that indeed, the second method felt more comfortable. He didn’t have to strain so much, and it was less about aiming correctly than feeling out his target. It felt so natural he nearly kissed Leorio twice, but caught himself just in time.

“Sorry. I’ve never had to break this down before, but like, one more thing…” Leorio began. Kurapika slumped his shoulders and let out an exaggerated groan of frustration. Leorio laughed nervously, but pressed on.

“See, in addition to the pressing the lips forward only once you’re close, the other movement is sort of a latching on. That sounds terrible, but really it’s like you’re kind of grabbing at them? The result is you don’t keep your mouth closed so tightly. Really, just don’t hold any kind of position, okay? It makes your lips stiff and unpleasant, and I can’t see us kissing, but it probably looks unnatural, too.”

Leorio grabbed Kurapika free hand. He performed the demonstration of the kisses again, starting with the stiff and quietest, moving on to the softer and more whispering, and then ending with the new set of kisses. These were warmer than the others, pressed harder, and broke off with a distinct sound. The breath they pushed forward tickled the sensitive skin of Kurapika’s wrist. He didn’t notice how intensely he was staring at Leorio, never even blinking, until the tickle of Leorio’s stubble and the damp air from his mouth cause Kurapika to inadvertently shudder.

Kurapika caught his breath, choking on a mix of heightened nerves and mortification and painfully aware that every hair on his body was standing on end. Leorio took the hand he held firmly in his and squeezed it, rubbing over the area he’d kissed to dissipate the sensation that still clung to it. He gave Kurapika quick, apologetic smile.

“So wait, no, thinking about it, you probably don’t really need the last variation in full,” said Leorio. He leaned back, letting Kurapika go and allowing the two of them plenty of space. “That kind of kiss allows for longer kissing, near-constant oral contact and stimulation, which in turn leads to making out and maybe tongues and…well, you told me to be frank with you so I’m just going to say it: sex. That’s like the first step to the sexy kissing. You’re not going to need it unless someone puts a gun to your head and orders you to make-out with Neon Nostrade with a whole room watching. That’s probably not likely to happen. Also, it rarely looks good to an audience, so you don’t really even need it to show off.”

“I may need to know it. We might have to distract someone. I don’t know.”

“Kissing is one thing, Kurapika. I didn’t prepare a lesson plan for making out.”

“Leorio.”

Leorio shrugged, not sure what to say. 

“It might get out of hand,” he hinted. “I don’t normally kiss people for extended periods of time to be romantic. I’m usually heading somewhere else.”

“ _Leorio_.”

“What? Don’t judge me. This is a judgment free zone, okay? Be happy I’m being upfront instead of lying or inventing some mean excuse to get you away from me. I’m not a kid like Neon who treats kissing like an in-love high-five. The only kiss you two need is short and sweet and to the point. If she asks for anything more than that, just don’t bother. That’s unreasonable. Any—let’s say _pressing_ —side effects of it will be more obvious if they happen to you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like her all that much, sometimes things happen. It’s best to just not risk it.”

Kurapika had gone a bit pale. “Well, then I should at least practice the kiss I’m supposed to use,” he said, humbled by Leorio's insinuation, “soft, doesn’t linger too much, a little more relaxed. ...Right?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess that's true.”

Leorio removed his teashades and ran a tired hand over his face, readying himself mentally. He scratched the back of his nails over the further extent of his sideburns where they ran along his jaw and merged with what looked to be two days worth of stubble. Kurapika recalled the mess of books and papers in the main room and somehow knew Leorio hadn’t left the apartment since they’d met three days ago. It was familiar to Kurapika, the long hours spent studying, intensively learning until time lost all meaning. And yet, it was curious that Leorio hadn’t shaved in preparation for a kissing lesson. Kurapika wasn’t sure how to ask why.

“I’ll start,” said Kurapika. He reached out and brought Leorio back towards him, whether Leorio was prepared or not. Leorio complied, but in no special hurry, allowing Kurapika to decide when to move in. Kurapika didn’t hesitate to act. An audible and quick intake of breath from Leorio told Kurapika that Leorio had been surprised by him. Kurapika followed the kiss with another, adjusting the feel of their lips and how they lay and moved against each other. He shut his eyes and concentrated on trying to get the sensation right, willing the whole gesture of leaning close and kissing to become natural. He wanted it to be automatic, like shaking a proffered hand or striking a defensive blow against an unlooked-for attack. It had to be perfect.

As always, Leorio broke away first. The short string of quick, probing kisses had ended too soon for Kurapika, who didn't believe he had it down yet. He instinctively felt as if he'd been rebuked, but was relieved that Leorio didn’t push them apart. He pressed his forehead against Kurapika’s and breathed deeply. Kurapika wondered if maybe he hadn’t allowed Leorio enough space to breathe.

“Kurapika…,” murmured Leorio so softly that only their proximity allowed Kurapika to hear him. “I…I can’t do this for very long.”

“Just once more. That’s it. I’m just starting to get it.”

“The more you get it, the more of a problem it becomes, to be honest.”

“Once more, and you’ll never have to kiss me again. I promise.”

“Don’t make me look stupid, you asshole. I’m not so impervious as you are. I clearly set too good a mood in this room, and it’s coming back to bite me in the ass.”

“You’re a grown man, Leorio. Think of unsexy things and control yourself.”

“That’s a tall order when we’re in my bed, surrounded by candles, and you’re getting better and better at kissing me. I am…not strong.”

“Don’t make this awkward, Leorio.”

“As in it wasn’t already?”

Kurapika didn’t waste more time on the mere pleasantry of asking. He went directly for the next test of kisses, and was surprise Leorio didn’t immediately throw him off and storm out of the room in retaliation. Leorio returned each one, though more hesitatingly than before. Kurapika could sense, maybe even taste, the uncertainty in Leorio’s movements—movements that were normally so hyper-confident and self-assured that hardly anyone ever doubted Leorio in anything. It was such a rare side that Kurapika had seen a hint of it only once, in the short moment that Leorio had spent troubled and doubting himself while racing through the tunnel during the first phase of the Hunter Exam. Leorio’s confidence in himself had wavered then. It wavered similarly, albeit to a much lesser extent, now. Leorio didn’t believe in his ability hold back if Kurapika continued to press him.

“Okay, I’m done. I’m sorry, I just…yeah, I’m really done,” said Leorio, pushing Kurapika the whole long length of his arms away and releasing him. “Hey, its super dark in here, so maybe just let me, uh, turn on the light real quick.”

Kurapika turned his face away before Leorio, tripping over his own gangly legs as he staggered out of the bed, finally reached the light switch. He knew the flush on his face would betray him if Leorio saw it, so as soon as the light flicked on, he stood and crossed the room to where he’d draped his suit coat and tie over the back of chair.

“It’s over. I’ll go,” said Kurapika. “Sorry.”

Leorio said it was nothing as he checked his watch. His eyes widened when he realized the time. With no fanfare whatsoever, he cross the room to where Kurapika was already sitting in the chair. To Kurapika’s utter bafflement, Leorio knelt in front of him.

“Wait,” said Leorio, placing a hand on each of Kurapika’s shoulders and looking him firmly in the eye. “There’s something important I need to tell you.”

“About what?” asked Kurapika. He’d been about to slip on his shoe, but froze with a cold fear. Before he could even begin to process why he was so afraid, a sudden, contradictory calm washed over him, followed by a dark blanket of sleep. Against his will, his body relaxed. He felt himself pitch forward as though weighed down with stones. He dimly registered the warm sensation of Leorio opening his arms to catch him, and then he knew no more.

“About that Linsen is covering your shift because Senritsu conspired against you, and got Basho use a haiku he’s been saving to force you to take a full night’s sleep. They decided to do it tonight because I’m here to make sure you don’t pass out asleep in any dangerous situation at exactly,” Leorio checked his watch, “nine-ten, pm.” 

Leorio pat Kurapika on the back and let out a low sigh of relief that he’d caught Kurapika just in time. “Goodnight, Kurapika,” he whispered into Kurapika’s hair. “Sorry. They told me to keep it from you so you wouldn’t resist. Please don’t wake up mad at me.”

Kurapika didn’t hear a word. He lay limp and asleep in Leorio’s cradling arms, his head on Leorio’s shoulder and Leorio stroking his hair. His phone on the nightstand began to ring, Senritsu checking that the plan had gone off without a hitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit I assumed a lot about Leorio and Basho's Nen abilities here. Feel free to tell me how to do better if you don't agree with my choices.


	12. Hunter D in Love

While Leorio was blowing out candles and writing an apology note for Kurapika to read in the morning, Kurapika had a dream.

He was home, back when a place he could call his home had existed. In those days the Kurta village and the forest surrounding it had been the whole world, and the only thing Kurapika had wanted was to experience everything that lay beyond it. His life had felt defined by the gnaw of routine and a never-ending repetition of faces and things so intimately familiar that sometimes he couldn’t tell his dreams at night from memories of real events the next morning, since they almost always took place in the one world he knew, populated by the only people he’d ever met, indistinguishable from the reality he lived every day of his life. The village had been a cage around him, and, in his childish perception of time as agonizingly slow, it’d felt like he’d been trapped in that cage for ten years plus an eternity. When he looked back on it later at eighteen, a little more than five years after everyone and the world he’d known had perished, it hurt to realize just how short his twelve years there had actually been.

In sleep Kurapika returned to the past that was gone. He knew it instantly because it haunted him awake just as much as in his dreams. In sleep the images came back clearer, surrounded him in every direction, allowed him to enter once more into a world that persisted in his mind even as the reality it was based on grew more and more remote with the passage of time. He saw the pale, waxy spirals of the corkscrew vines, the floppy, swirled patterned leaves of the underbrush, the endless circular etchings of pale yellow radiating across the face of a wary tree frog that winked at him as he inclined slowly but surely ever closer to examine it. Over his shoulder, lying flat on his belly and supporting his round, boyish face in his hands, was his friend, Pairo. He was pretending to read along with a tale both he and Kurapika knew by heart. In reality he was following the illustrations on the page and filling in the gaps between them.

“You left out the fine silver filigree of the five tiered crown of Ramzi’s daughter,” said Kurapika, turning to look back at his friend. “It sparkles like the shiny back-scales of minnows in a stream. The light dances on the delicate curves and turns them into wriggling fish swimming in an ocean of sky.”

Pairo laughed and shook his head. “But that’s not in the book, Kurapika. I just made that up last time.”

“Well, I like it better that way. Keep it. If there were room on the page, I’d write it in. In fact, I think we should rewrite all of our favorite parts with the details you add. Your version is better.”

“Where are we going to get that much blank paper? The only notebook you have is for school, and the teacher will notice if you fill it up with stories.”

“My mom said if I keep messing up my prayers, she’s going to make me write them out five times a day. She’ll definitely have to buy me a notebook for that. Then, I’ll just bring it here and tell her I lost it while studying in the woods.”

“Your mom will kill you, Kurapika, and then you can’t write anything.”

“Ugh. You’re right.”

Kurapika turned back to examine the frog, but discovered it’d hopped off while he’d been talking to Pairo. He groaned in disappointment and then crawled over, across the small hollow at the base of the tree, back to where Pairo was about to continue reciting his much better version of the story of Ramzi’s daughter.

“I have an idea,” said Kurapika. He rolled onto his back, his long hair spreading out over the page on the left side of the book. Pairo brushed the strands away with a few short swipes of the back of his hand. “That stupid teenager Melpik always forgets and leaves his notebook out in the teacher’s parlor after he’s done studying.”

“Melpik isn’t stupid. You just don’t like him because he always spells faster than you on quiz days, so you end up not winning everything all the time.”

“If the only thing you’re good at is spelling words, Pairo, then you might as well not be good at anything at all. How’s spelling going to help you if you can’t even write a sentence correctly? How’s spelling going to help you if you can’t even solve simple addition equations?”

“Don’t be mean. Melpik can add.”

“I’ve never seen it, and I refuse to believe something I’ve never seen.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t.”

“Nor does it mean he can.”

Pairo didn’t sigh or roll his eyes at Kurapika’s ridiculous assertions. All he did was laugh. In the future, it would prove to be Kurapika’s clearest memory of him, even as he began to lose the fine details of Pairo’s face. Ahead of any other feature, he saw Pairo’s smile cutting through the thickest fogs of his memory. Though Kurapika suffered, overwhelmed by horror and anger and suffocating despair, the Pairo in his mind smiled and laughed just as he always had when they’d been alone together reading their forbidden book of high adventure and Hunter D either in the cool shadow of their cave hideout, or, when they were running low on pilfered candle stubs like now, just outside beneath the dappled light of a giant tree.

“My plan,” said Kurapika as he flopped a hand over the open book to force Pairo to pay attention to him, “is that we take Melpik’s notebook and then _his_ mother can kill _him_.”

“No, Kurapika, that’s stealing.”

“But he doesn’t need it. He’s always forgetting it. And when’s the last time you’ve seen him write a word in there?”

“Yesterday. In class.”

Kurapika sighed. Pairo was too good. There was no getting through to him unless they ran away now, far from the village, and somehow bought their own notebook with all the money neither of them had. Kurapika nudged Pairo with his elbow, and Pairo scooted over, allowing Kurapika to roll onto his stomach beside him.

“But don’t you like the idea of writing our own version?” asked Kurapika. He rested his chin in his hand and ran his fingers over the worn corner of the book nearest to him, his face thoughtful and heavy with regret for all the beautiful words they couldn’t add to make the stories into all of Pairo’s best versions.

“It’s a good idea, but we don’t need it. I remember all the details in my mind, so, so long as I am telling the stories, we’ll always have them.”

“You won’t forget? Are you sure? You forgot how to recite half of ‘The 75 Honorable Elders of the Kurta Clan’ only a week after our exam was over.”

“I don’t care about the names of the Elders. My dad says our leaders should be appointed by the tribe based on their skill, not on seniority. He says our system is as old and tired and… _stupid_ …as our Elders are.”

“My mom says that, too, but to my dad when she thinks I’m not listening. Never to me. Your dad tells you way more stuff. I wish my parents were like yours. My parents treat me like a little kid.”

“We are kids. This is grown-up stuff. Also, I don’t like it when my dad says the Elders are stupid.”

“The Elders are so stupid, though, Pairo. Your dad is totally right.”

“Kurapika….”

Kurapika ignored Pairo’s gently reproving tone and flipped through the book instead. He paused once he reached an illustration of Ramzi’s daughter. Here, she was in disguise as a priestess in order to avoid capture by the coga, a witch her father had sold her to before she was born for the price of a golden vouropatra. The vouropatra, though never shown in the illustrations, was a giant bird Kurapika liked to imagine resembled those used in his village as pack animals, except it could fly and was more beautiful. It glittered with myriad shades of gold flecked with silver in exactly the way it was breathlessly described by Pairo at the part of the story where the vouropatra made its first bewitching appearance and sealed Ramzi’s fate.

Ramzi’s magnificent vouropatra had died during its first winter, leaving old, bewildered Ramzi with nothing but a debt. At Ramzi’s pleading, the coga had said he could keep his newborn daughter—in whom Ramzi had discovered he saw a light more beautiful than a hundred golden vouropatra—if he could bring the coga a golden vouropatra’s egg to replace the animal he’d lost. He had until his daughter turned 17, at which point the coga would claim her and eat her, and nothing could be done to gain her back.

“Why hasn’t Ramzi’s daughter got a name?” asked Kurapika as his eyes flitted across the page that accompanied the illustration of the girl.

“I guess her name isn’t important.”

“But she falls in love with Hunter D, and he even kisses her! It’s weird she doesn’t have a name. What if everyone just called you by your father’s name? Like you just belonged to him and nothing else about you mattered?”

“Pairo is my father’s name. It’s his second name.”

“Well, then maybe Ramzi’s daughter’s name is Ramzi, too.”

“People don’t name girls after their dads.”

“But this is another country. The foreign countries are always strange. That’s why Hunter D has to be so smart and brave. He has to be ready for anything. You can never guess what people in foreign countries are like.”

“But they can’t be that weird. They’re still people.”

“How can we know? We’ve never been anywhere but our village. We don’t know anything.”

Pairo wisely chose not to engage Kurapika in another one of their tireless discussions of the outside world and their utter inability to experience it. He knew perfectly well what Kurapika’s feelings were on the subject. Kurapika had quickly and vociferously shared them plenty of times already.

“Can I finish reading the story? It’s your favorite part now. Where Ramzi’s daughter meets Hunter D, and they fall in love.”

“Shut up. That’s not my favorite part. I’m not a girl.”

“Don’t lie, Kurapika. Every part of this book is your favorite.”

“Fine. Keep reading. And don’t skip any of the details like you did with the crown.”

Pairo pulled the book closer to him to find where he’d left off. Here, Ramzi’s daughter was dressed as the high priestess of a temple at the peak of the Gentu mountain, because everyone knew the light of the five-tiered crown the high priestess wore would blind the coga when she looked at it, rendering Ramzi’s daughter invisible. However, Ramzi’s daughter had underestimated the acuity of the coga’s other senses. One day, in a hurry for time, the girl had neglected to anoint herself with the scented oils of the temple. The coga’s sense of smell, sharp as a feral predator stalking prey on a moonless night, had identified her in the breeze carried down from the mountain. She’d raced to find Ramzi’s daughter among the priestesses, now certain she was there.

Only the chance intervention of Hunter D and his seven clever tricks to bewilder the coga had spared Ramzi’s daughter’s life. Ramzi’s daughter had rushed to him, grateful, letting the five-tiered crown fall and revealing her beauty that stood even without adornment. They’d embraced, like all romantic characters, and shared a kiss. Hunter D professed his love for her, but told her with a heavy heart that it wouldn’t last. He was a Hunter, and Hunters were vagabonds, wanderers, doomed to abandoned all those they loved because their passion for adventure was too great to permit them to settle down.

“It’s so sad,” said Pairo with a sigh. “Are you sure you want to be a Hunter, Kurapika? You’re going to abandon us all and travel the world alone?”

“No!” exclaimed Kurapika. “I’m not abandoning you. Ramzi’s daughter couldn’t join Hunter D because she couldn’t be a Hunter. But, you and I will travel the world together. We’ll both be Hunters, so, we’ll both be the same.”

“Okay, that makes me happier. But, we’ll still need to come back and visit my mom. She’ll cry if she never sees me again.”

Pairo lifted the book and propped it up so that it stood before them, opened up like a stage. Kurapika took out two colorful rocks marked with delicate, milky whorl patterns that he’d collected from the cave days ago. He was always forgetting to give these rocks to his mother as a present so she could display them along with all his other found treasures inside the glass-faced curio cabinet carved with geometric patterns that she’d inherited from Kurapika’s grandmother. Now, he used the pretty rocks to hold the book open so he and Pairo could easily admire one of the book’s most beautiful illustrations. It was one of only twenty-seven that were in color, which made it easier for Pairo’s weak eyes to make out. What he couldn’t see, he embellished with intricate, breath-taking details that the reality of the illustration would never have measured up to. He’d expounded so eloquently on Kurapika’s painfully literal descriptions of the fine details that Kurapika was convinced the world Pairo saw in his mind, rather than through his half-blind eyes, was infinitely superior to any world that would ever exist. At the same time, he hoped the world Pairo “saw” did exist, and that if they left the village to go on an adventure, they would find it and bring pieces of it back home for their mothers to display in their cabinets.

The illustration itself was a large, full panel dedicated to an image of Hunter D and Ramzi’s daughter kissing. When they’d first read the book, Kurapika and Pairo had skipped past this page as quickly as possible, telling themselves it was girly and gross, though neither ever said it aloud. This had changed a month ago, when Kurapika had arrived to the cave hideout alone and sad, because Pairo had been too sick to leave his room or see anyone for three days. Kurapika had flipped through the book, filling Pairo’s long absence by recalling Pairo’s elaborated versions of the stories. He’d inevitably come across the page with the kiss and, emboldened by the lack of anyone around to judge him, hadn’t flipped away from it immediately. He’d taken a good, long look for the first time, trying to figure out what about this scene had made him so tense every time it’d flitted by before. He’d observed with shy fascination the embrace of the two lovers, the curved lines of their delicate faces, the simple and yet momentous pen strokes that created the point where their lips met and consumed each other. He’d slowly lost himself in the image of the kiss, as much as the two characters seemed to lose themselves in each other, his eyes grown wide and his mouth hanging loose, silently absorbing every minute detail.

From that point on, Kurapika didn’t flip past the page nearly as quickly, and with his increased confidence in facing the image, Pairo had grown more comfortable with it as well. Now, Pairo thought nothing of leaving the book open there, as coincidentally it was also the same place where the chapter ended and the next one began.

“It’s beautiful,” said Kurapika, pressing a finger on the page and tracing it down the long lines of the woman’s gown. “They look happy.”

“My parents don’t kiss like that.”

“My parents don’t kiss period.”

“How are they married if they don’t kiss?”

“I dunno. They don’t do it around me much. When I was little they kissed all the time, and it was so gross. It was so boring waiting for them to cut it out.”

“It’s really not gross. They’re just in love. That’s what people do when they like each other.”

Kurapika pulled his finger back from the page and turned to Pairo. “How would you know it’s not gross?” he said. “When did you kiss anyone? And I mean on the mouth, not on your face like your mom used to do when she dropped you off at our house, and you turned red and complained she was embarrassing you.”

“That’s what you did, Kurapika, not me. You used to pull your mom’s hair when she tried to kiss you, and you’d scream until she let you go.”

“Shut up. I was a little kid back then.”

“You still think it’s gross. You’re still like a little kid.”

“I am not,” said Kurapika as he pushed himself up and sat back on his knees in a huff. He crossed his arms and raised his chin high, looking off to the left, away from Pairo and the open book as he stubbornly refused to acknowledge the truth in what Pairo had said. Pairo, as always, laughed. Kurapika felt his face turning red. He interpreted Pairo’s good-natured teasing as cutting ridicule, because the sensitivity of the topic was too great and embarrassing. As shame wormed through him, he felt compelled to retaliate, to prove Pairo wrong. Kurapika wasn’t a simple child who didn’t know anything. He was smart, like a grown-up, ready to face the outside world if only the Elders would let him leave the village. He certainly wasn’t scared of something silly like a kiss.

Kurapika decided to prove his fearlessness to Pairo by crouching back down and taking Pairo’s face in his hands the way Hunter D’s hands held onto the face of Ramzi’s daughter in the illustration. He drew his stunned friend upwards to kiss him for several agonizingly long seconds directly on the lips. By the time Kurapika pulled back, Pairo had long since stopped laughing.

“Kurapika…what?” asked Pairo, short of words as much as Kurapika was of breath. “What…did you…why did you do that?”

“I don’t think kissing is gross, Pairo,” said Kurapika. He let Pairo go a moment later, too nervous to keep holding on. Now, only when the kiss was over, did he feel shy and embarrassed over it, but he couldn’t let Pairo know that. He stood up and paced around the small hollow, unsure where to direct all the nervous energy welling up inside of him. The only thing he wanted to do was run away and hide forever, but that was something he could never do to Pairo.

“You’ve kissed someone before?” asked Pairo, mistaking Kurapika's impulsive, false confidence in the act for experience. “But…who? Aitora? Melpik was making fun of Aitora for having a crush on you.”

“Ugh. No. Aitora is annoying. She always blinks at me like there’s something stuck in her eye and borrows my pencil sharpener like ten times during math. I can’t stand her.”

“So you didn’t kiss her?”

“Eww. Never. I haven’t kissed anyone but you, just now. Because you wouldn’t stop laughing at me.”

“You mean wasted your first kiss on me, Kurapika? Just to make a point? Are you serious?”

Kurapika reeled, trying to save himself as his shame intensified. “ _My_ first kiss?” he said. “Just mine? So, you’ve kissed someone, then?”

“What? No.”

“…Aitora?”

“ _No_.”

“Well, then what’s the big deal? It’s just a kiss. A kiss is nothing. Hunter D can kiss a girl and the go sailing away across the sea five hours later, never to return. Clearly it’s not a big deal.”

Pairo wasn't convinced. After a moment, he said in a much smaller voice, “Maybe it’s not a big deal. But…. It doesn’t make you feel weird?”

Kurapika shrugged. “It feels a little strange, but I guess I don’t mind it. Are you mad I didn’t tell you I was going to kiss you?”

“It was scary, Kurapika. I didn’t like it.”

The racing of Kurapika’s heart grew faster, heavier, nearly choking him like a hand wrapping around his lungs and wringing the breath out of them. He’d gone cold at the realization that he’d just done something bad to Pairo. He’d scared him, and Kurapika had no idea if it was the sort of thing Pairo would easily forgive him for.

“Really?” he asked, trying to sound calm though his mouth had gone dry. “Are you sure you don’t want to try it again, but I warn you this time? Maybe it won’t be so scary then.”

“I don’t think so. It’s just not something I like. I don’t want to do it again. I don’t think it’s fun.”

“Oh. Okay. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad. I just…don’t do it again.”

Kurapika hung his head, ashamed, as Pairo’s gentle but persistent rejection broke his heart, which until now he hadn’t even known Pairo held. He felt like Ramzi’s daughter, standing on the end of the pier and shining in the setting sun like a beacon tied to land, incapable of guiding home, back to her, the ship that sailed beyond her reach. Pairo had lamented that no matter the pain of her loss and her tears, not even love could call across the sea loud enough to change the heart of a Hunter dedicated only to himself and his life of adventure. Kurapika struggled for breath like she had, his mind full of broken images of the story and Pairo’s own frightened expression of a moment ago. He turned away to face the dark, soothing nothing of the wide tree trunk as his vision blurred. There wasn’t anything to say. He sat down hard with his knees drawn up and his arms folded over them, burying his face in the fabric of his sleeves so Pairo wouldn’t see him start to cry like the child he’d so willfully insisted he no longer was.

“Will you still be a Hunter with me?” whispered Kurapika with some effort into the space between his knees. He heard a sniffle from Pairo, who was too kind-hearted to watch Kurapika suffer without feeling it, too.

“Of course, Kurapika,” said Pairo, something in his voice almost pleading, even as it cracked with relief that Kurapika wasn’t so upset that they couldn’t still be Hunters together anymore. “Of course I will. I can’t wait to travel the world with you and go on adventures.”

Hearing this and the worry in Pairo’s voice, Kurapika forced himself to calm down. He didn’t want to make Pairo upset for him. Once he’d dried his eyes, he stood and went back to Pairo’s side, wrapping his arms around his friend and allowing him to hide his face in his shoulder. He told Pairo that everything was okay, apologized for making him feel bad, and promised, over and over, that they’d explore the world together, always together, because there was no-one else Kurapika wanted to see the world with more than Pairo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been brought to you by the tiny, tired sigh-like sound bridging “catedràtic” and “Yuri Puscas” in the second verse of [Antònia Font’s "Batiscafo Katiuscas" [youtube link]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E6NLHAO0UeA). It messed me up and threw me into an existential crisis that lasted four days.
> 
> Tumblr user [ bugtongue](http://bugtongue.tumblr.com) drew a sketch inspired by a memory of this chapter. You can find it [here](http://bugtongue.tumblr.com/post/168181494048/i-was-going-to-make-a-huge-post-asking-yall-for). You can also check out their ao3 account [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BugTongue). For hxh, there's some Kurapika-centric work.


	13. Young and Stupid but Old Enough to Know Better

Leorio was leaning out the balconet, smoking and shivering inside the apartment because it was too late at night to go for a walk alone. He glanced over the empty neighborhood street below, so quiet in comparison to the main thoroughfare the apartment building faced out towards on its primary facade. Behind him there was the sound of keys jangling and the bolt of the lock rolling over with a heavy click. He didn’t need to look to know Senritsu had arrived bearing a fresh set of clothes for Kurapika to change into when he woke.

“Good evening,” said Senritsu. She placed the bundle on the arm of the sofa. Leorio nodded to her and kept on smoking. Senritsu scooted a stool over and perched herself atop it with practiced ease. She was now as high as Leorio’s shoulders as he remained unmoved from his post staring out into the night.

“How are you doing, Leorio?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

“How did it go?”

“It was okay.”

Leorio rolled the cigarette between his fingers. He watched it burn down, not sure what to do, his mind absorbed in a lucid awareness of everything Senritsu already knew he wasn’t saying. Though it was only a quarter spent, he put the cigarette out against the rail and made to flick it out into street. He stopped himself at the the last moment, sighed, and held onto it instead. He didn’t want to go back inside the apartment yet and face the quiet and the ticking clock. Basho or Linsen or whoever had been right about the eeriness of the place. But, worse than that, he didn’t want to face the soft breathing emanating from behind the door to the bedroom he’d left a crack open.

“Let me invite you to a drink at the bar down the street,” said Leorio. “There’s nothing here, but I’d like a drink. Where I’m from only misanthropists drink alone.”

“Kurapika won’t wake up?”

“No, you guys knocked him out good. He literally passed out on me while putting on his shoes and didn’t wake up even a little when I moved him to the bed. I don’t think he’s going to wake up until he gets a full eight hours.”

“That was startlingly effective.”

“If I hadn’t checked my watch right on time, he would’ve face-planted, right straight into the floor. It was impressive and also terrifying.”

“Did you at least teach him kissing before he fell asleep?”

“Yeah. He really went for it, too. But I’m going to need that drink if you want to ask me anything else about it.”

Senritsu hopped down from the stool, and Leorio went to get his coat and his shoes on. They set out together into the brisk night air, gentler at street-level than upstairs, in search of Leorio’s recommended café-bar. Senritsu told Leorio the place hadn’t been around when she’d still lived in the city, so he’d have to lead the way. Leorio swiftly proceeded to get them both lost.

“All these intersections look the same at night,” he muttered, glancing up and back down in both directions a few blocks later. “We probably should’ve turned left a block ago. Maybe we can go left now and loop back around.”

“How many times have we looped back around already?” asked Senritsu. “But you’re right. It sounds like there are more people off to the left and back some way.”

“Well, at this point, I’ll settle for anywhere. I’m not picky,” said Leorio. He buried his hands in his pockets to express the appropriate modicum of shame for his terrible night navigation. “We’ll follow your ears. Listen for the sound of drinking and good times, will you?”

“And the sound of normal people talking. I’m not going to stop at some old man bar to pass out from smoke inhalation while twenty drunk men shout above a football match and sing team anthems.”

“Sounds like my kind of scene, though.”

“Then you’ll be drinking alone.”

“Not alone. I’ll have twenty new drunk friends to console me in your absence.”

“Don’t forget _you_ invited _me_ out for this drink, Leorio. It’s already a shame you’ve forgot where we’re going.”

“Not my fault. The streets in this neighborhood are all identical, Senritsu. I can't say you’ve picked a part of the city with much character to live in.”

“I chose someplace quiet. Someplace new and near a train station so I could travel for work,” said Senritsu. She stepped to the edge of the pavement and stopped, listening more than looking for cars, and then motioning for Leorio to join her. “I don’t want to let the place go, either,” she continued after they’d hopped across the street. “I got in when it was being built, so I was able to have the soundproofed room installed. It was very important to me to have a place to practice my music and my Nen in peace.”

“You’re right. Those factors outweigh character. I apologize.”

“It’s okay. I’m not even bothered. You’re tired and stressed out. I know. Did Kurapika treat you like he treats Neon?”

“Cold and distant? Not exactly. But I’d rather get into that later. This street is so empty, anyone with a window open can hear every word we’re saying. Let’s find the bar.”

Though Senritsu’s hearing made finding clusters of nightlife and bars much easier than depending on Leorio’s daylight-bathed recollections of the general directions of things, it still took over a half hour before he and Senritsu found a place they both agreed on. Leorio managed to talk a large party sitting outside into giving him a table they’d piled a few coats and finished drinks on but otherwise weren’t using. Leorio was so affable in his request that the members of the group cleared the table for him with enthusiasm and invited him to join them, but Leorio graciously declined, informing them he was on a very important date. Everyone laughed; most assuming wrongly what part of Leorio’s reply was the joke; Senritsu didn’t look like their idea of anyone a guy like Leorio would date.

“I’m surprised we got a table and chairs this time of night,” said Leorio with a tired groan as he took a seat. He set the drinks he’d ordered down between him and Senritsu and stretched his long legs over the pavement hers didn’t reach. “I was afraid we’d have to stand at the bar. Or well, that I’d have to crouch in a corner awkwardly while you stood because otherwise they’re be no way for me to hear a word you said.”

“I’m not surprised by it,” said Senritsu. “We’re Hunters, and you’re a Hunter who’s especially tireless when hunting for the sake of another’s comfort.”

“Clearly that’s why I’m still a Rookie Hunter. Doormat Hunter hasn’t become an official designation yet.”

“Please, Leorio. You’re honestly the only Hunter I’ve met who’s fit to interact with normal human beings. Among Hunters, that makes you exceptional.”

“I’d prefer my exceptionality to be more like throwing and transporting perfect Nen punches through a vortex of my own creation, landing them onto the face of my adversary without taking a single step across the several feet of distance between us.”

“And yet you fight with a knife, an instrument defined by the close quarters required to utilize it. Now you’re telling me you want to fire punches at long range?”

“I’ve used knifes because a knife is an important tool to have on hand for reasons totally unrelated to fighting, okay? And also I’m stupidly hoping it’ll scare the person off if I whip it out before they get close. I don’t like to actually engage with the knife. I’m not some bullheaded Enhancer who charges right in with his fists. But knives make normal people think twice when they see them. What’s better to defend yourself is a big stick, though. It’s got more range.”

“I suppose that’s the thing with us Emitters. If we strike, it’s preferably at a distance. No wonder we have such a reputation for selfishness.”

“You don’t strike me as all that selfish.”

“You didn’t know me before, back when I thought nothing could get me.”

The light in Senritsu and Leorio’s corner of the patio increased with the departure of a small group that’d congregated around the outdoor heater. Leorio sipped his drink and observed the newly revealed, tiny events that occurred within the fluctuating crowd. He boldly refused to look away from a single eye that strayed in his direction. Senritsu’s eyes, meanwhile, were shut. With her ears, she was hearing more than Leorio could ever possibly see.

“There’s someone watching you,” said Senritsu after a pause.

“The girl with the yellow earrings?”

“I don’t hear colors, Leorio.”

“Who stares at her drink and rolls it around more than she drinks it, twists her rings up and down her fingers, and keeps tapping her lips with the pendant on her necklace?”

“Sounds like her.”

“Pfft. She hasn’t looked over all that much, I don’t think.”

“She gets nervous every time you look up. She’s definitely noticed you.”

“Don’t play with me like this, Senritsu. I have a very delicate ego.”

“You want to see if I’m joking? Try to get her attention; or well, her direct attention.”

“Nah. She expects me to go to her, and I don’t feel like standing.”

“You don’t have to hold back on my account. In fact, I’d like to see this fabled popularity of yours with the ladies in action. You’ve charmed me, but I’m a soft touch when I hear a heart as warm and gentle as yours. That woman knows nothing about your heart, though. I guess that’s good for her. Or else she’d see that what she wants from you isn’t likely to happen tonight.”

“Oh? And what does she want from me?”

“What any woman reeling from a freshly broken heart wants from an attractive and lonely looking young man across the way from her.”

“I’m not lonely. I’m with you.”

“She doesn’t see me. She sees you engaged in conversation with someone small and unassuming, and the weight of the emotion on your face makes her feel that you would understand her better than anyone. If you spoke to her, you’d hardly have to try to win her over. The racing of her heart when you caught her eye just now says she’s already invented her ideal of you, and she’s in love with it.”

“well, I’m not interested in someone whose primary interest in me lies in my presence helping them evade their own problems. Not up for filling the empty half of a bed that hasn’t even had a chance to get cold. I won’t be someone’s surrogate for affection.”

“Then stop looking over my head at her.”

“But see now I’m curious.”

Senritsu took up her drink with a smile and shake of her head. Though it was easy to read the feelings of the woman a few tables away, Leorio himself wasn’t so easily puzzled out. Sometimes, his heartbeat would pick up its pace, but not consistently or simultaneously enough to suggest the woman really had anything to do with it. What determined his mood were his thoughts, his reminiscent glimpses of a sequence of events he hadn’t yet shared the details of with Senritsu. She asked him again how things had gone with Kurapika, if there might be anything she needed to know before Kurapika woke up in five hours. Leorio told her no, that the only problem between them was on his side. Kurapika was fine. Kurapika didn’t know anything. Kurapika would never have suspected something might be going wrong with Leorio.

“I had an idea this would happen to you,” said Senritsu apologetically. “It’s a shame. Basho and Linsen tried to give Kurapika advice before we got you involved, but they were terrible. Like I said, you’re the only Hunter I know who can be trusted to get along with people. To be normal. Hunters don’t really think about things like dating and romantic love, though conversely we seem to be the people in the world most capable of the strongest attachments. It’s just not always to people that we get attached. When was the last time you met a Hunter who was in love with a person and not some impossible dream another person would never fit into?”

Leorio shrugged and finished his drink. He placed the empty glass down heavily on the table.

“It’s nice to know I’m an outlier,” he said, his voice cheerless and dull. “It’s nice to know just how royally I’m fucked.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Everyone’s unique. This is your unique way. You care a lot.”

“It’s beyond caring too much at this point,” said Leorio. He stared down at his hand resting limply alongside the empty glass. The next words he said in a quiet voice only Senritsu could hear. “I didn’t want him to stop. It was excruciating trying to hold myself back, when the only thing I wanted to do was to reach out and grab hold, to try to find some way to make him feel the way I did. Can you believe he asked me to make out with him? Just, casual as you please, heart of fucking ice. Nothing means anything to that guy. Nothing is sacred. I think we’re creating a monster here. And I think I need another drink.”

Leorio stood, snatching up his glass as he went, and wove back through the huddle of people around the door, back into the din of the overcrowded bar. He left his glass on a nearby counter for a server to take away, and then made a detour to the toilets. On the mirror above the sink, he caught sight of his face. He stared blankly into it a moment, somehow not expecting to recognize himself. What he saw was just the same Leorio of every day. He ran his fingers over his unshaved chin and cheeks, recalling the deliberate choice he’d made not to shave that morning because he’d been worried that too fresh a shave would make it look like he was trying too hard. He’d wanted to be cool. Relaxed. He saw now that he looked like an absolute mess.

One person didn’t consider him a total mess, or well, at least not in a way she didn’t like. The woman with the yellow earrings was waiting for him in the hallway leading back to the bar. She didn’t tell Leorio she was there for him or call him over, but he knew she trying her luck. Against all his better judgment (though it was right in step with his current mood) he paused just after passing her and turned back around.

“Sorry, this is embarrassing,” said Leorio, “but do you have a phone I can borrow? I think I left mine at my friend’s house. If it rings there, he’ll answer it, and I’ll know I didn’t lose it on the metro.”

“Certainly,” said the woman, pulling her purse up to her chest and searching around inside it. Leorio took the proffered phone from her, making sure his fingers brushed hers. He imagined he heard her breath catch at the contact, but it also could’ve been his asshole imagination feeding him ego-bolstering lies. He then called his own phone and waited, knowing it would never be answered. He imagined it ringing through the still apartment on the kitchen counter where he’d left it. He imagined Kurapika might stir in his sleep at the sound and roll over but not wake. The woman next to him feigned an acute interest in the multiple rings on her fingers, twisting a them around while she waited.

“That’s a cool decagon design you have for your background,” said Leorio, handing the phone back. “Matches your earrings.”

“I’m really into dihedral groups.”

“What else are you into?”

“Well, I also like the rhombic triacontahedron, which has thirty faces. There’s one here on my ring.”

Leorio looked at the ring as it was lifted up for his scrutiny. He took the hand that bore it, bringing it closer and blaming the low light. After a moment, he looked down the arm, back to the woman’s face. It was very possible she hadn’t blinked.

“And me?” asked Leorio. “You like me?”

“What?”

“The person I’m here with caught you staring at me,” he said, never breaking eye contact. “Unless, of course, you kept looking over because I have something wrong with my face.”

“No, your face is fine.”

“You should pick your words more carefully, because now we both know I’m going to have to ask you what’s so fine about my face that you couldn’t stop checking it out.”

“…Can I have your number?”

Leorio grinned and pointed to the limply held, half forgotten phone in the woman’s other hand. “You already do,” he told her.

This time Leorio saw with his own eyes the woman’s small gasp of surprise as she looked down at her phone and read his information, already mysteriously saved in her call history and contacts, as “Cool Tall Guy from Bar”. This was like magic, because she hadn’t seen when he’d had time to type it all out. Leorio remained mum. The secret to that trick was between him, his Nen, and what only appeared to be idle tapping along his the side of his leg as he waited for a call to go to voice mail three times before giving up.

“Wait, but you said you lost your phone.”

“I had to say something, didn’t I?”

The woman gaped at Leorio, intrigued but also slightly unsettled, because nothing like his approach had ever happened to her in real life. She’d hit on men before, but she’d never had one hit on her back with such…well, she wasn’t sure what to call it. Overconfidence? Fearlessness? Methodical ease? Her gut reaction was to back away, because it wasn’t normal. It told her that Leorio had nothing to lose. In the end, however, she made no move to run. The part of her that was intrigued kept her feet firmly planted in place. She wanted to know what happened next. Her mind wasn't totally clear. Something kept interfering with her thoughts.

“One quick question,” said Leorio. He leaned forward and the woman’s eyes grew wide, but Leorio ended up only placing a hand on her forehead to steady her as he examined her face more closely. “How much have you be drinking? You look near your done point.”

“My friends goaded me into taking a shot of distilled wine Carldo brought for Maca’s birthday. I’m not good at shots.”

“One shot did this?”

“I’m really not good at shots.”

“Well, then you’ve made eyes at the right guy tonight, because I’m a medical student, and therefore invested in making certain you receive a certain level of care so that your condition doesn’t worsen. Do you live far? I’ll walk you home. I’m heading out, too.”

“Certainly. I live close by.”

Leorio brought the woman, who told him her name was Trina, with him to the table were Senritsu waited. The moment Senritsu saw them together with her eyes and not just her prying ears she began to laugh.

“I thought you were getting a drink.”

“Yes, well, look what I brought back a tall glass of instead.”

“Well done, Leorio. How could Kurapika resist your charm?”

“Easy. He’s never been drunk around me. Everyone likes me when they’ve been drinking.”

“I’m starting to see why so many if your gifts have alcohol in them these days.”

“It was supposed to be subtle.”

Trina stood at Leorio’s shoulder, holding on for support in towering heels that still only brought her up to Leorio’s nose. She greeted Senritsu nicely, sensing no threat in her. Leorio told Senritsu they were taking Trina home. Trina clutched Leorio’s arm a little closer as he bent to grab his coat off his chair. She asked uncertainly if Senritsu was joining them, and Leorio said of course she was. They’d drop Trina at her door together, safe and sound, and then continue on themselves.

Senritsu kept up a lively conversation about music during the walk, and she, Leorio, and Trina all marveled at how unanimously great the band Black Planet was. Leorio told Trina that he had a friend of his who’d never listened to Black Planet once, despite having been born and raised on Earth itself. Trina expressed the appropriate aghast at this information, announcing to Leorio that it was his duty as a good friend to save this person, even if he had to tie the offender down and force them to listen. They might protest at first, but he’d be thanked and forgiven once the album finished.

Leorio personally delivered Trina the rest of way to the door of her apartment building without Senritsu, who hung back in the street with some excuse about privacy Leorio knew was a lie. Though he hadn't intended to get so far, Trina brought him along into the foyer when she dragged him through the door in order to kiss him goodnight. Leorio wasn’t Kurapika and didn’t fight back. Actually, he embraced the experience as a welcome distraction and a comforting reaffirmation of his physical attractiveness and winning charm. He’d undoubtedly enticed Trina; her kiss said so much. Leorio kissed her back, letting it linger and deepen, but he was also the first to pull away.

For the second time that night, Leorio had the choice to obey his better judgment and leave, or try for something a little more instead. He chose to hold back. Instead of separating himself from Trina completely, he put her in the position he’d set Kurapika in hours before, pressing their foreheads together and speaking in a quiet, intimate voice.

“I’m not free at all,” said Leorio to remind her he wasn’t getting any further than this foyer.

“I know.”

“But, I have a weird request.”

Trina laughed too loud. The smell of whatever she had one too many of hit Leorio square in the face. “I’m not drunk enough to do anything right here if that’s where you’re going.”

“No, no, not weird in that way; don’t worry,” said Leorio. He took a deep breath and, reminding himself he had literally nothing to lose and that Trina was a stranger, he said, “I was wondering if I could kiss you. Maybe five or so in a row. Something that’s lighter, gentler, or well, more….”

“ _…romantic_.”

“Perhaps. But only respond a little. Then, maybe you can return the kisses.”

“ugh. You’re right this is weird, but I also think it’s sort of sweet. I’ve never met a guy who cared so much about kissing. Unless, of course, you’re a crazy person.”

“I’m not crazy…I don’t think,” said Leorio. He also wanted to argue that no, he actually didn’t care so much about kissing in the way she’d interpreted it, but, he knew the argument was unnecessary and would turn his request from odd but endearing to outright creepy in an instant.

Trina tried, but lacked the patience to carry on for long. She broke off laughing at the end, telling Leorio that such delicate, gentle kisses made her nervous, and, what was stranger, she had no idea why. Leorio had something of an idea that could explain it, but he didn’t share it with her. Instead, he squeezed her hand in both of his and kissed her on the cheek. Then, he turned back to the door, pressing the buzzer to open it. He left Trina with a warm wish goodnight, but his mind was already gravitating back toward the sole subject it’d been hanging onto all night. The only face in his mind had yellow hair, not yellow earrings, and those lips had been dryer and paler except for right after they'd been chewed on in nervous anticipation of what would happen once Leorio began to kiss them.

Senritsu hadn’t wandered far while waiting. She looked over as Leorio emerged with a smile as knowing of what had just transpired as if she’d been standing in the foyer with him and Trina the whole time. Leorio didn’t say a word, just kept his head down as he went up the street in short steps so Senritsu could keep pace comfortably alongside him.

“It wasn’t the same, was it?” asked Senritsu. Leorio shook his head.

“Not even close. The difference was so much worse than I’d thought it’d be. But it’s fine. Now I know exactly where I’m standing, and I can begin the process of giving it up.”

“Do you really have to give up?”

“Yeah. I’d be stupid not to. It won’t feel all that great, but I have enough experience to know it’s just a matter of time and distance to move on from these things.”

“It’s that easy for you to give up on a person, though? And here you were calling Kurapika heartless.”

“I’m not giving up on him,” murmured Leorio. He wasn't sure how else to keep his voice from shaking. The cold was suddenly greater and almost unbearable as he confused his rising anxiety with simple shivering. “I’m giving up on the other thing. Love has lots of forms or whatever. I’ll let it take another form. The impulsive sort I’ve got to endure for now is sharp and painful, but I can bear it, and it’ll pass. There’s lots of ways to still care about someone without impulsively turning them into a lover who has to carry on with you the rest of your life, you know. Only a privileged child has such a narrow perception of love, because that’s what the world looks like when you’re still an egg in the nest.”

“You sound more like a Hunter.”

“Does being a Hunter mean to never be satisfied, ever, and then just constantly make excuses for yourself about whatever it is that makes you so bad with getting close to other people?”

“In short, yes. We never make anything easy for ourselves. It would bore us.”

“Yeah, right. I love being bored. It’s nice to have life slow down enough to be boring.”

“And now you sound like an old man.”

“Well, you hear something repeated enough times, it starts to sound true, right? All of you have turned me into an old man. At twenty. Fuck. Before people always told me being a Hunter kept you young.”

“On the outside, perhaps, Nen can slow aging. Inside, however, it’s either the profession, or the people who go into it, but everything accelerates. We put ourselves through a lot because we never stop moving forward and challenging ourselves, accumulation life experiences at a breakneck pace. Hunters don’t stagnate. We’re driven in all the best and worst possible ways.”

“You learn this eavesdropping on everyone’s hearts, I guess.”

“Yes, I have. And I’ve learned you can always tell if someone is a Hunter just by the sound of his or her heart. There’s a special energy to it. There’s a part of it that, even while calm, even while asleep, never ceases to race. All of us are pursuing something we can never find, something that we often can’t even name, and every cell in our bodies is bent on the search. I hate to admit it as much as any other Hunter would, but the truth is we’ll never come to peace with our restlessness and dissatisfaction. Hunters lack whatever quality it is that helps normal people bear their loads and carry on. Nothing we discover is ever enough for us. By the time we find what we thought we were looking for, it’s no longer entirely what we want.”

Leorio chanced a glance at Senritsu, but her eyes were fixed far ahead, down the road, into the blur of indistinct darkness that glowed with an orange-tinged yellow under the streetlamps. He reached down to pick a dry, curled leaf from the brim of her hat and tossed it away over his shoulder. He tried to find whatever Senritsu was looking at, but then remembered that Senritsu’s eyes were hardly ever pointed in the direction of her thoughts. He wondered what she was listening to, then. He worried a little what she might hear inside of him. Was it possible to feel someone listening to him in the same way that he could feel someone staring?

Senritsu was the first to realize they were walking aimlessly in a direction Leorio had chosen at random. She stopped him and took out her phone to look up how to get back to her apartment before Leorio went and got them both lost all over again. She then led the way while Leorio hung close behind her, reciting for her every time he failed to recognize a street he’d picked out the name of along the side of an inadequately illuminated wall.

When they arrived to the apartment, Senritsu announced that she was leaving to go back to the Nostrade Estate. She wouldn't go with Leorio back upstairs to check on Kurapika. She trusted that Leorio would take care of him, and anyway, she had the first train of the day catch in an hour and a half. Leorio told her to wait for him to come back down, because it wouldn’t have been gentlemanly of him let her wait at the station alone. Senritsu allowed it, but only because she knew being a gentleman wasn’t the real reason why Leorio wanted to accompany her. The truth was that he didn’t want to be alone.

Leorio smiled. Senritsu was perceptive, but then, she always was, wasn't she? She’d heard his heart and known the whole time what would happen, and he hadn’t let her tell him. Now, he’d no longer be able to drown out whatever his heart said with excuses for it and a dismissive laugh. When everything was quiet, like in the apartment upstairs, he’d hear it speaking to him loudest, reminding him of his feelings for the angry, overworked friend asleep in his bed while Leorio stayed everywhere he could think of except by his side.

"I'm thinking I'm in need of break," said Leorio. He'd come back downstairs with a small, packed bag and his phone in his pocket. "Maybe it's selfish, but I don't think you're allowed to knock a fellow Emitter for his selfishness."

"I can't," agreed Senritsu. "It was something selfish of me to ask you to go through with teaching Kurapika in the first place."

"It'll only be a week or so."

"Take as long as you need."

Leorio smirked. "How long would I need, though?" he asked. He look up at the infrequent lights just beginning to come on in the windows of the neighborhood's earliest risers. Kurapika wouldn't be among them. The sun itself would rise long before he did. Leorio sighed at the thought. 

"What's needed is some time and distance, but.... I feel like could leave and not come back for an entire year, and he'd not even notice I was gone."

"He'll notice you left without saying goodbye."

"It can't be helped. I can't face him this soon. I'll probably screw something up if I do. I left a note with an excuse upstairs. You can tell him I had to rush back home for a school thing. He's not going to care about the details."

"It's not that he isn't going to care. It's that he doesn't doubt you."

"Good point," said Leorio. He smiled and gestured invitingly to the road in the direction of the train station. "Shall we be on our way? It's a four hour train, and I want to arrive home in time for lunch."

Senritsu accepted and followed along without pressing the matter any further. Leorio was relieved she didn't try to tell him to be braver, like what he was doing was a question of cowardice. He wasn't afraid of Kurapika or his own feelings. That wasn't what this was. This was simply a procedure. It was what needed to be done if he valued his friendship with Kurapika over his errant heart's compulsion to destroy a real bond for the sake of a romantic whim. Kurapika didn't deserve that from one of the few people in the world he never doubted. Even a selfish Emitter knew better than that. And anyway, when it came to the value of employing distance as a tool, no-one knew how better than an Emitter.


	14. A Uniquely Transformative Experience

Morning light didn’t pour into the room from the narrowly opened doorway so much as it stumbled in awkwardly, took an uncertain look around, and then diffused only enough that the shapes of furniture and shelves along the walls could be made out as dark suggestions of their locations. Kurapika didn’t recognize where he was, but this didn’t alarm him. He was in bed and comfortable, and that told him he most likely hadn’t been forced to fall asleep wherever he was. Also, there was someone nearby, which was reassuring, because he never would’ve slept next to someone he hardly knew. The soft breathing could’ve been one of exactly three people in the entire world, and for the moment, he didn’t care too much which.

At that instant, the person next to him sprang to consciousness with an expletive and threw off their blanket. Their feet hit the wooden floor hard, unhappily, and dragged the unwilling body across the room to open the blinds covering window.

“Shit. If I don’t keep this open a little, I have no idea what time it is, and I sleep all damn day,” said Leorio bitterly as light burst into the room. Kurapika could now see the muted color of everything around him. The walls were pale yellow and the ceiling was white. His blanket was red and plush with a tan sheet beneath it. Leorio’s blanket was printed with tiny flowers over the top, under which it was all pale mauve fleece. Leorio, half-dressed and complaining of the cold, groggily staggered back into the bed’s warmth and fell right to asleep again, his body a smooth lump of tiny flowers with his blankets wrapped tightly around.

“Leorio, let me out. I have to go to work,” said Kurapika, though he didn’t rush to move from where he lay between Leorio and the wall. Leorio likewise didn’t budge.

“No, you don’t. It’s your day off.”

Kurapika pushed the heavy blankets covering him down to his ankles and then crawled over Leorio and out of the bed. He recognized the room finally as the bedroom in Senritsu’s apartment. His toes brushed the soft thread of the carpet along the floor, and he searched around for his slippers before stepping out to find where he’d put his suit for work.

“Wait,” said Leorio. He hand had shot out from the beneath the blankets with Kurapika’s first step and wrapped gently around Kurapika’s forearm. If Kurapika pulled away sharply, the hand would release, but he allowed Leorio to hold him back.

“You haven’t got work today.”

“But it’s Monday.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“I work on Saturdays, too.”

Leorio was sitting up, holding Kurapika’s right arm against his lips as he kissed down on the sensitive skin along the underside of Kurapika’s wrist. Kurapika didn’t yank himself free. Leorio wasn’t forcing him to stay. Not really.

“Sit down. We’ll listen to Black Planet.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s good for you.”

Kurapika waited as Leorio reached behind him to the speakers on the headboard. Shrugging, still uncertain what day it was but not in any hurry to resolve that problem, Kurapika took the phone from his pocket. He handed it to Leorio. Music played immediately, but he didn’t recognize the song. Leorio motioned for Kurapika to join him, to relax and listen, because it was Saturday or Monday or something, and Kurapika didn’t have work.

Kurapika reentered the bed, but he didn’t sit back against the wall next to Leorio. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Leorio, pressing him down into the pile of blankets and pillows billowing about them like clouds. He held Leorio’s face in his hands and kissed him more, the right way, envisioning it like a dramatic moment in a film, the collapse together into the bed as the scene grew soft and dim. The urges he felt to bring himself closer, to press against Leorio harder, weren’t the sort of things he’d ever associated with Leorio before. Something in his perspective had changed. The frequency of the kisses increased in proportion to his growing sense of abandon. The music from the speakers played louder. Loud enough to wake him because, of course, he was dreaming.

Kurapika jolted upright in his bed, blinking through the yellow glow of the reading lamp that in no way resembled morning. The large, padded headphones he’d been wearing, lent to him by Senritsu, slipped down the back of his head until they rested on his shoulders and wrapped around his neck. The scratchy treble of the music still playing from them was the only sound apart from his haggard breathing. Down the hall, in the common room, the murmur of conversation between off-duty bodyguards gradually grew more distinct.

Kurapika removed the headphones and fell back into his pillow. He remembered the dream had been false. None of it had happened. He’d woken up completely alone in the bed in Leorio’s apartment. His first sensation had been alarm at his hazy recollection of the circumstances that had led to him falling asleep right where he was. Next to him on the side table had been his phone, as well as a hastily scribbled note from Leorio apologizing for leaving him in the apartment alone, but he’d had to go home for a few days to meet with a professor at the university where he was studying. He’d taken the first train out, but hadn’t been able to tell Kurapika because Basho and Senritsu had used Basho’s Hatsu to force Kurapika into a long, unbreakable slumber for ten full hours.

Kurapika later found a matching explanation on his phone in a text from Senritsu. She also told Kurapika about the spare clothes she’d left on the chair, and said he could leave the ones he’d slept in behind; she’d make Basho pick them up later. On the kitchen counter she’d left him a copy of the apartment keys so he could lock the door when he left. Less than an hour later, he did.

It’d been an odd, tranquil morning during Kurapika’s chilly commute back to the Nostrade Estate. Everything had seemed blue and cold in the early light, all the people and sounds familiar but also a touch unreal. He’d felt like he’d become unattached to it all somehow, only moving through a scene without any part of him anchored to its reality. Something had changed inside him, but at the time he hadn’t been entirely sure what it could be. Now, however, with the onset of his dreams and the new directions his wandering mind took in relation to Leorio, he was beginning to form something of an idea.

Kurapika pressed his fingers to his lips and thought cautiously back on the alternate events of his dream. The tinny, faraway track being played in the headphones ended and changed to the next. Kurapika reached for his phone to check just how many songs he’d dozed off through. For such a long dream, Kurapika was surprise to see he’d only been asleep for about twelve minutes.

“How does anyone listen to this band for sixty minutes straight?” muttered Kurapika, swiping back three tracks on Black Planet’s masterpiece album to the one he’d drifted off in the middle of. He put the headphones back on and then pressed play. He imagined Leorio laughing at him as he did so, jokingly congratulating Kurapika for finally giving in and lowering himself to join the rest of humanity in their craze for all things Black Planet. He smile at the thought. At the same time, there was a hollow ache in his chest, urging him onwards in some unknown direction, as persistent as an itch that tugged at his heart.

* * *

It was no secret that Light favored Linsen above all else as his personal bodyguard. Nor was it a secret that Light’s based his preference largely on Linsen’s eerie, unnervingly gaunt appearance, which complimented the Nostrade family’s love of using the macabre for a bit of flare. In terms of gathering intelligence, Senritsu was the better option because of her hearing, and so sometimes that skill outweighed Light’s aesthetic merits. In terms of pure, professional skill, Kurapika was the strongest choice of all, but recently Kurapika allowed himself to be seen less and less in the position of Light’s lackey, eternally scowling at the world over his master’s shoulder like a bitter shadow. It was therefore understood that whenever Light needed a pair of bodyguards, he’d most often choose Linsen and Senritsu, and leave Kurapika and Basho behind with Neon.

Today was one such day, and, due to Neon having the flu and unable to rise from her bed as she whispered directions pathetically to her attendants, things around the Nostrade Estate were slow. Kurapika and Basho were patrolling the grounds together, appreciating the increasingly warm weather as spring drew closer. Basho bemoaned the lack of inspiration he found on these patrols. All he felt the urge to write now were poems of apathy, of shrugging in the face of life when it asked you a question, and of tasting the biting tears wept over one’s spiritual and physical inertia, which was the most terrible fate to befall someone as wild and free as a Hunter. He asked if Kurapika also felt the lugubrious drifting away of real passion from his soul as he withered here, like Basho, trapped in the professional doldrums of the spirit.

Kurapika, of course, didn’t reply. He chided Basho harshly for stopping to consider the gesture of a blade of grass rather than paying full, unbroken attention to his job. Basho lamented the thunderous rolling of Kurapika’s stomach that must constantly be in a state of insurrection against such a meager appetite for life. Kurapika walked a bit faster, out of earshot, until Basho was done painting a picture of what he perceived to be the indigent state of Kurapika’s soul.

“I suddenly remember why we don’t do this more often,” said Kurapika when Basho caught up with him. “We should’ve split at the fork by the razor fish fountain. Now we’ll be stuck together until we come back around to the rose cherries.”

“You’re the only one who feels that way,” said Basho. “I’d tell you to stop being so down, but down is all you’ve ever been, so that advice would likely go unheeded.”

“I’m not having a bad day,” said Kurapika defensively. “I’m not down at all. The weather’s nice and clear today. Next week it’s supposed to rain for three days.”

“This place needs a thorough rinsing,” said Basho, bending down to take a branch from the path and toss it into the trees. “But I’m not interested in talking about the weather for twenty minutes until we reach the rose cherries. What I want to know are two things. One: has our lady boss, Neon, spoken to you even once outside of a date ever since she became grounded?”

“Other than to tell me to fetch something or whatever, no.”

“Two: Have you finally fucking listened to Black Planet?”

“Yes. Yesterday evening.”

“Thank god, Kurapika. I was beginning to think you might not be a human. There are a lot of mysterious, shape-shifting beasts in this perilous world we live in, and for a good while, my friend, I suspected you might perhaps be one of them.”

“It’s a rock band, Basho. I have no idea why everyone’s so obsessed.”

“Well, which albums have you listened to?”

“Just the newest one.”

“Then that’s the problem; you started at the apex. You don’t have the full picture yet. You need to go back through the discography and experience the crescendo of genius that culminated with their newest album.”

“When am I going to find time for that, Basho?”

“We don’t find time for these things, Kurapika, we make it. That’s what it means to care.”

“Then I guess I don’t.”

Basho scoffed at Kurapika’s totally unfounded sense of certainty in his ability to not care about Black Planet. One day Kurapika would eat those words. Basho wanted to be there when he did. He’d write a beautiful poem about the radiant moment of Kurapika’s transfiguration.

“Do you at least know why she’s still mad at you? The boss?” asked Basho after the smug, knowing silence had passed.

“She blames me for telling on her. If I’d let her stay out longer at that party she ran away to, the alcohol would’ve worn off, and she’d have come home sober. In fact, she was mostly over it by the time she got home. But, I went and told on her anyway.”

“I heard you kissed her the other day, and she cried and threw a drink in your face.”

“They were tears of rage. She put me on the spot in a restaurant. She didn’t think I’d actually do it.”

“Why would that make her angry? From what I hear, she’s always been badgering you to kiss her in public, and you’ve always failed to deliver. She should’ve been ecstatic.”

“No, because now she hates me. She’d already been whispering to me the whole dinner that she was going to make a big scene that would ruin everything for me. In the second course, she stood up from the table, slammed down her utensils, and challenged me to kiss her ‘if you still love me’. She was hoping it’d be obvious once I couldn’t kiss her that we were going to break up. But, I just went ahead and kissed her, and she was so shocked that she started crying. She couldn’t even speak, she was so mad. Just soaked me in lemon soda and stormed out.”

“Well, at any rate, I’m proud of you, Kurapika, even if it’s too late to do you any good. You’ve surpassed your limitations and can now embrace a girl and kiss her with total inhibition, like a true man. You must’ve prayed at all the right holy places for help, because for my part, I was sure you were a lot cause, a tragedy of unfeeling youth. Something divine seems to have interceded, though. Or…perhaps it was that relaxing ten-hour nap a few nights ago that refreshed you and nourished your spirit? Maybe you woke up transformed.”

“I didn’t wake up transformed into anything, Basho. I just got some practice in with kissing.”

“…Practice?”

“Yeah. That’s how you learn things. You study and practice.”

“And who’s this secret kissing practice partner? Certainly not your hand. Unless of course, it is. In which case, don’t tell me, because that was never the way I envisioned my longstanding respect for you would die.”

“It wasn’t my hand; what are you even talking about? And anyway, it doesn’t matter who. What matters is that I’ve learned.”

“Ah, but you ought to be careful who you let kiss you, Kurapika. They might just steal your heart.”

Kurapika’s mind strayed to the fantasies that had begun to interfere with the routine contents of his thoughts. He remembered in an instant every time he’d kissed Leorio, both for real and in his imagination afterwards. Wryly, he told himself that such dreams weren’t coming from his heart, but rather a more primal place with a higher susceptibility to base desire.

“Revenge has wound itself too tightly about my heart for anyone to easily take it from me, Basho.”

“Oh, well, that’s poetic. But of course, love transforms us all into poets.”

“It’s a bit dark a sentiment for love having anything to do with it.”

Basho let out a laugh so hearty it required him to stop a moment and place his hands on his hips so he could more fully enjoy the feel of it rumbling through his barrel-like chest and ringing out into the damp coolness of the late winter air.

“No…no, no, no,” said Basho softly, wiping a tear from his eye. Kurapika, arms crossed heavily and frowning, waited.

“When you are in love, sweet romantic love, you live and die by the judgment of you lover’s glance. You try to anticipate, to see yourself as another sees you. This torturous lens on yourself by yourself inspires intense, terrifying revelations of your innumerable faults and your greatest disappointments in what you are. Studiously, you’ll learn all the ways a person can despise you, and that will bring about an asphyxiating, boundless anguish. You’ll see the worm you are, and writhe in the grasp of that desperate realization that you are utterly incapable of making another person as happy as the light in your lover’s eyes and the smile on their cherished lips has made you. Everything you see, everyone you speak to, every place you go, the world will call out to you ‘fool, showoff, don’t play like you don’t know! Nothing lasts forever! Retreat! Resist! Rebuke!’ It’ll repeat after you, peruse you like a baying hound, its cry an inescapable mantra of pessimism and terror from the instant the passionate fall you took becomes a drop to the hard ground. And that feeling inside you will persist for as long as the heady years of your initial infatuation may run.”

Kurapika yawned wide and turned away, not interested.

“Love is supposed to make people happy,” Kurapika couldn’t help but insist when Basho caught up with him. “Love brings people joy and contentment.”

“Only insofar as it makes them suffer. Everyone has seen in music and film and life itself that the most intoxicating love is when it’s in its most tragic form.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Sarcasm won’t save you or anyone. I confine my works to matters of nature rather than of the heart, and you can see now that it’s for a good reason. I’m overcome too strongly by the despair of love. It utterly zaps my creativity, as all I can do is lie down and let it consume me with thoughts of the end of my love, and by extension, my own existence. Nothing makes you feel the coming of the end of all things more acutely than being in love.”

“But I’m not in love… _unfortunately_ ,” said Kurapika.

“Are you sure? A kiss can trick you. A kiss that seems to be nothing can still beguile. Remember Baise? She was beautiful and dangerous in a whole lot of ways, but that kiss of hers was something else.”

“Says the man who writes haikus that force a person to fall asleep for ten hours. You can control people just as much as she could when you get the wording right.”

“There’s greater difficulty in composing a poem about a kiss than performing a kiss. My skill is greatly constrained, for I am shackled to the inadequacy of human language to express all the sensations of life. A kiss operates beyond what can be expressed by the furthest depths of the combined vocabulary of all the languages that have ever existed. And yet, to the unwise, a kiss seems a trifle, a given, something so omnipresent and rudimentary that it might trick you into thinking it’s lost its spell. But then, you chance upon a kiss with a certain person, and before you know it, you’ve fallen to your knees, a slave at their feet.”

“That’s really not how I feel about anyone I’ve ever kissed.”

“It’s not always the first kiss that does it. Beware the second, creep cautiously towards the third, and pray by the fourth that there’s still hope left, because by the fifth you’ll be lost completely.”

They had come into view of the rose cherry hedges, but instead of beating a hasty retreat, Kurapika stayed at Basho’s side until they’d come all the way back around to the house. Here, Basho would have to begin his circuit of the grounds again.

“I’ll cover the rest of your shift,” said Kurapika. “I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“No, because yours is right after mine, and you won’t have a break all day. I didn’t write the most spectacular ode to the curative powers of sleep for you to go squandering its effects on unpaid overtime. You’ll find yourself conked out against your will once more if you keep it up.”

“What am I supposed to do? I’m wasting time doing nothing.”

“Do you want a suggestion?”

“Yes.”

“Bring your phone and your headphones outside and walk through the rose cherry hedges searching for buds while listening to Black Planet’s fourth album. It will be a surreal and sublime experience. It’ll change you.”

“That sounds like a waste of time.”

“Well, if you’re wasting it anyway, might as well waste it on a uniquely transformative experience.”

“Yeah, never mind. Forget I asked,” said Kurapika. “I’ll just go train in the gym or something.”

“Suit yourself,” said Basho. “I suggest Black Planet’s first album if you need a musical accompaniment to train to. It’s the most energetic. The music punches hard, but it’s long before they found their true artistry. You should be able to fight the gym equipment along to it mindlessly.”

“Thanks,” said Kurapika. Basho waved to him and continued on down the path that circled the northern corner of the estate. Kurapika went back inside the mansion and up to his room.

A book about games and card playing strategy laid open, facedown, at the foot of Kurapika’s bed. He picked it up and carried it with him to the desk, hoping to get some of his study-training out of the way before going to the gym. As he took a seat in his desk chair, the headphones Senritsu had lent him caught his eye. He thought about Basho’s suggestion. He remembered it was stupid. There were hardly any buds on the rose cherries anyway. Searching for any would be futile and exhausting.

Kurapika took a deck of cards from the desk drawer. He removed twelve cards out to modify it for the game he wished to study. He needed plenty of room to lay the cards properly, so he began to clear the desk. In the process, his hand brushed the headphones, forcing him to consider them once more. He clasped them by the band, ready to toss them to the bed, but stopped. Instead, he stood and took his phone from his pocket, checking the charge of the battery. He opened the discography of Black Planet that Basho and Linsen had compiled for him along with rare bootlegs and live recordings that were harder to find. It was long going trying to find anything specific in the mess of inconsistently titled tracks.

At last, Kurapika selected the fourth album and went to grab his still-warm coat from the hook where it hung in the hall. He’d go look for rose cherry buds and waste his time. Neon was sick and Leorio was gone. There was nothing better to do with his free time, to get his mind off everything his wandering thoughts wouldn't let go of.


	15. Cards on the Table

The point of Leorio’s lesson today was to teach Kurapika how to haggle. Kurapika accused him of having run low on imagination, as they were obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel of activities they could feasibly do together. Leorio had become indignant at this. Dating wasn’t all about novel and exciting experiences in a constant stream. Such an expectation was unrealistic. While haggling might’ve had little to do with romance directly, the real point was learning to share another person’s interests as a gateway into sharing their time. Just because Kurapika lacked any engaging hobbies of his own, it didn’t mean he could impose that boring lifestyle on whoever he was dating. For love, these concessions had to be made. If you didn’t have time for another person’s interests, you didn’t have time for another person, period.

Normally Kurapika would’ve had some kind of argument ready about not actually having time for Neon (or Leorio for that matter), but the words in his mind, normally so sharp and quick and ready to take people on in an instant, were muddled. In the end, he’d gone along with the haggling lesson, mostly because he was physically incapable of speaking for several seconds each time he looked Leorio directly in the eye.

Graciously, Leorio hadn’t called much attention to the awkwardness with which Kurapika had answered the phone call inviting him out. He’d told Kurapika that the goal today was to do something normal, more like friends. He kept his word when they met, not making any gesture that could be misconstrued as a “move”, to the point of going so far as to not even take Kurapika’s elbow when Kurapika had nearly turned down the wrong street. There was an unspoken but persistently maintained distance between them, and Leorio wouldn’t be the first one to break it. Kurapika wasn’t sure how he felt about this, if it was better or much, much worse.

Kurapika blamed his mixed up state on Basho’s impassioned rambling about love and the power of a kiss. Up until the very minute before he was supposed to see Leorio, Kurapika had been fine. He’d got a little nervous on the phone beforehand, yes, but that was understandable, and it hadn’t lasted that long. Hearing Leorio’s voice talking so normally about their next meet-up had reassured Kurapika that everything was okay. He’d even felt ridiculous for worrying anything would’ve changed.

This confidence and optimism had died when he’d cast a searching glance from the second floor window of the fast food restaurant where he was waiting and made out the shape of Leorio only just turning the corner a block away. With no clear thought process determining his actions, Kurapika had moved deeper into the restaurant, away from the obvious window. He’d found the most concealed seat available, a sort of central booth backed by a slatted screen. From there, he’d watched the top of the stairs like a tigereye finch watched the bank of a stream from its hiding place in the fronds of a low hanging palm. The difference was that Kurapika hadn’t been hunting or stalking prey; he’d been evading someone. He hadn’t allowed himself to think too hard as to why.

Though he vainly tried to tell himself he’d been surprised by it, the sudden tightening in Kurapika’s chest when he’d heard Leorio’s boorishly loud voice carry up the stairs hadn’t been entirely new to him. He’d felt it to a lesser extent when he’d answered the phone, and again when he’d just seen Leorio walking down the street. As it mingled with the thought that he was about to see Leorio in person for the first time since…well, since they’d shared so many wavering and poorly executed kisses in Leorio’s bed, the clenching feeling acquired a painful intensity. He’d needed to forcibly inhale three times sharply before he could pull in enough air to calm himself. By the time Leorio’s search had brought him upstairs, Kurapika had improvised a solution by pretending to be dozing on the bench alongside his table, with the idea that, if pressed, he could’ve blamed his disorientation on nearly falling asleep because Leorio had run late.

The situation had only marginally improved by the time they’d reached the market. Kurapika was beginning to grow angry with himself over it. Part of the problem, he suspected, was the secret guilt he harbored over dreaming about Leorio embracing him and kissing him with a passion Leorio had never once expressed. Kurapika’s inability to will such thoughts from his mind had come as a tremendous disappointment to him. What embarrassed him even more was how those thoughts influenced him even when he was awake and lucid. He’d have thought he would’ve been better at distinguishing his wayward imagination from reality, but now when he looked at Leorio, most of what saw were endless snapshots of things that had only transpired between them in his mind in private.

As they wound their way through market stalls and caught each other up on the days they’d been apart, Kurapika noted with bitter satisfaction that Leorio wholly avoided mentioning how he’d taught Kurapika to kiss the last time they’d met. When Kurapika, more out of spite than caring if Leorio knew, had shared with him that he could now kiss Neon, Leorio had nodded, said it was about time, and congratulated him. He’d made no reference, even in boasting, to the part he’d personally played in this accomplishment. Kurapika ended up mentioning it instead, just to see Leorio’s reaction. He praised Leorio’s teaching skill, saying that thanks to him, Kurapika had overcome a huge hurdle. Leorio just nodded and smiled and said he’d been glad to help.

“It’s kind of pointless now, though,” admitted Kurapika after an uncomfortable silence had fallen between them with his talk of kissing. “Neon is threatening not to go to the Moreau Ball at all if it’s really the only reason she’s being forced to date me. She said she doesn’t care enough to go if it means having the put up with me for any longer.”

“Well, that sucks,” said Leorio. Kurapika waited for more, but Leorio wasn’t forthcoming with his copious amounts of unsolicited advice today. His enthusiasm had been noticeably low since he’d arrived to the fast-food restaurant, but Kurapika had chosen to interpret it as weariness from traveling late the night before. Now, however, as an hour passed with no change, Kurapika became worried and wondered what had happened in Leorio’s country that had caused the man to come back acting so defeated. Kurapika wasn’t accustomed to showing any interest in Leorio’s personal life, so he was at a loss how to breach the subject. Instead, he just kept going on about his own problems, as though that might make Leorio come out with his own.

“We still haven’t heard back on the request for her to bring a friend as well as a date along, so attending as her boyfriend is still my only option. Worse, she’s starting rumors that she’s only dating me to help her father, because there’s rumors on top of that that I’m the one in charge of the family now. Her crazy former clients want to know if she’s being mistreated. She has no idea how dangerous things can get if people see proof that a family as big as the Nostrade clan is deteriorating at its core. And yet, Light still refuses to tell her anything really about our situation, except that she can’t buy as many clothes and treasures as she’s used to.”

“Stay out of trouble if it gets bad. It’s not your job to save the Nostrades if that ship starts sinking.”

“Actually, that’s exactly my job,” said Kurapika. Leorio shrugged. He only seemed to be half listening and took out a cigarette. Kurapika sighed and stood with him at the edge of the crowd to wait while he smoked.

“Is…uh, is everything all right, Leorio?”

“It’s fine,” said Leorio gruffly around the cigarette as he pocketed his lighter. He gestured to the square spread out before them. “This is the fairest priced market I’ve ever been to,” he said. They’d already finished a lap around to see every stall twice over, and nothing had caused Leorio to stop, clutch his heart over the audacity of some swindling merchant, and whittle down a price. “I…I can’t argue with any of this, really. It’s all so reasonable. Just…wow. You’d never know the mafia ran this city.”

Breaking their no-touching agreement, Kurapika elbowed Leorio sharply in the side when he mentioned the mafia. Although Leorio was correct, and the mafia did run things around town, it wasn’t something citizens openly discussed. They chose to act as though never bringing the topic of crime up would somehow shield them from it. Feuds and turf wars were breaking out all the time in the neighborhoods to the south, but this wasn’t that part of the city. This was famous Battiato Square with its white boar fountain, where the market prices were reasonable, and you didn’t talk about the mafia, ever.

“I’d ask you where the most crooked market is, but the problem is you would actually know, and I don’t feel in the mood to fistfight anyone to save money. I guess the most we can do here is try to talk the donut seller into reducing the price of the donuts that’ve got cold, but I’m not really in the mood for stale donuts, either.”

“I have two more hours until I have to get Neon from school,” said Kurapika. “How about we sit somewhere and you just tell me how to haggle in theory, not practice?”

“I guess it’s better than nothing. There’s a place near here that serves that type of hot chocolate so thick people eat it with a spoon. You should try it. It’s from my country, although to be honest I don’t really eat it much.”

Leorio led the way down a few twisting side streets to a narrow storefront nearly concealed behind ornamental orange trees in a small neighborhood square. Kurapika marveled at how well Leorio knew a city he didn’t live in, but Leorio said he was simply good with directions. He’d been to lots of different places before with Senritsu, and had heard about more online. Plus, going for walks was a free hobby anyone could do, especially if one spent all day cooped up in the living room studying. Leorio had long legs, so whenever he needed to stretch them, he covered a lot of ground.

“Last time I was here, Senritsu got this milk chocolate with violet, but I didn’t try it. This place has to be pretty creative with the flavors, though. All these different options aren’t typical where I’m from. We heard some bossy old man complaining about the authenticity, but he kept it to himself and his son without hurting anyone. Some people just get really worked up about that stuff. I don’t. I actually like that they have dark chocolate mixed with coffee. Everything else looks too sweet.”

“This is too sweet?” asked Kurapika, pointing at the menu. “You’re the one who’s always giving Senritsu candy and cake. Even that alcohol you brought last time was sweet.”

“Did you try it?”

“My schedule was all over the place, so I was having trouble sleeping. Basho thought it would help.”

“Did it help?”

“It made me lie down, but I didn’t really sleep. I wasn’t about to get myself drunk. I wasn’t that desperate.”

“You were desperate enough to try a nightcap.”

“Basho pressured me.”

“With a haiku?”

“No. He just wouldn’t shut up. It’s just as effective as a haiku if you can’t get away from him.”

Leorio chuckled at this and once more lamented how much he felt he was missing out in having never met Basho in person. The poet had always seemed stern and to the point on the phone. Hearing the way Kurapika and Senritsu went on about him, however, intrigued Leorio. At the very least, Basho seemed like a terrific man to go drinking with, and going drinking was one of Leorio’s favorite social activities. He would’ve invited Kurapika along since Kurapika was eighteen and legally allowed (though Leorio always reminded Kurapika that drinking in his home country was legal at sixteen) but, unfortunately, Neon was still too young, so teaching Kurapika how to drink wasn’t really a logical choice for a pair bonding activity Neon and he could share. In addition to that, drinking was a whole different way of interacting with other people and would’ve required its own separate course to get right.

“Honestly, though, it might be useful in your line of work to know how to drink. If you ever need someone to go drink with you and keep you out of trouble, you have my number. I’m tried and tested in this field, and have ushered many a young, inexperienced acquaintance of mine into the world of fairly responsible alcohol consumption.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Kurapika, certain he would never, ever contact Leorio for any such thing. If Kurapika couldn’t control his wandering mind while sober, what was to stop him from overstepping his bounds when he slipped into that dreamlike blurring of reality brought on by the inhibition of drunkenness? Maybe in the past he would’ve actually considered the offer, but now he knew he could never risk drinking alone with Leorio.

The longer the time Kurapika spent with Leorio, the more pronounced became the gnawing paranoia that he wasn’t hiding his feelings well enough and that everyone who met his eye could read it on his face. Leorio whispered to Kurapika that the waiter seemed to like him, as her smile had been much too sincere when she’d taken Kurapika’s order. Kurapika pretended to be embarrassed by it, but what had really made him uncomfortable was the confiding way in which Leorio had looked over his teashades and grinned before leaning forward to tell him. Kurapika had noticed the waiter’s smile as well, but he’d taken it as a knowing look. She knew, somehow, that Kurapika was out with someone he was too attracted by to keep cool around. It made her smile because it endeared him to her, as all silent struggle was endearing when one perceived it in a stranger and felt they could relate.

“What do you do on a date when you’re nervous? When you like the other person too much and can’t think clearly?”

Leorio didn't complete his first sip of chocolate because he’d nearly dropped the cup onto the table. His spoon clattered against the saucer as it slipped from between his last two fingers where he’d been keeping it in reserve. He winced at the sound and reached without looking with his free hand to set the spoon properly along the saucer’s edge.

“That’s an interesting question,” he said. “But, that would only happen if you were dating someone you actually liked, and you’ve told me you don’t plan to like anyone.”

Kurapika sighed and stirred the small cup in front him. He lifted the spoon a small ways and watched the dense liquid slide off, leaving a thick coat of chocolate behind. He repeated the procedure to cool the chocolate down, as well as give him something to look at that wasn’t Leorio.

“I can’t tell if that’s really my plan anymore,” confessed Kurapika. “It’s easy for a kid to say he’s never going to date anyone, that girls and kissing are gross and boring to him, but I’ve realized that I actually have no evidence to prove that I’m totally incapable of falling in love or being attracted to anyone. Also, I’ve read that liking someone is sometimes just one of those things that just _happens_. One minute you’re happy and normal, and the next you’re obsessing over the single sentence someone said to you all day, trying to read from it whether or not they might like you back.”

“You’re telling me you’re scared one day love is going to sneak up on you? Is that it? Like it’s a trap?”

“Yes, basically. Just because it hasn’t hit me yet doesn’t mean it won’t.”

“I guess you have a point,” said Leorio. He finished taking the sip and then wiped his mouth with a napkin. Kurapika found himself staring a tad too long at this operation, as it brought attention to Leorio’s chocolate stained lips. A half second later, when Kurapika caught himself, he felt like an idiot. He was thankful Leorio hadn’t looked up.

“Well, the way you go on, it sounds like you’ve never even had a crush on anyone in your life, so if it makes you feel better, you might just be the kind of person who doesn’t need a romantic relationship. You probably have nothing to worry about.”

Kurapika stopped stirring the chocolate. “Actually,” he said like it was a terrible secret, a confession to a crime, “I have had what I guess was a crush on someone before.”

“That’s normal. You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

“It’s not that I’m ashamed. I don’t talk about it because, well, they’re not here anymore.”

“Oh.”

“But also, yeah, it’s a little embarrassing, too, because they turned me down when I told them I liked them. It was a stupid kid thing, though. I’m not even sure if I really liked them that way really, or if I just sort of had my head in the clouds, and they were the most available person to develop feelings for. There weren’t a lot of kids my age around growing up. I only had one friend, really.”

“Ouch. You had a crush on your only friend?”

“Well, it kind of went away after they said they didn’t like me back. Probably it was just a phase. There was another person who had a crush on me, but I didn’t really pay attention to it. They built up the courage to steal a kiss from me the morning I was getting ready to leave my village. They cornered me and told me to come back for them, that they were in love with me. I just kind of pretended I was Hunter D and gave a speech about going to find my adventure.”

“You pretended _what_?”

“It’s a character from a book. He gives this speech to a girl who he’s in love with and tells her they can’t be together because he’s a Hunter, and Hunters are destined to explore the world. The peril for her was too great, and so, he had to leave her behind and never come back. Falling in love and settling down are the end of a journey, you see, but a Hunter like him never stops journeying. It was best if she forgot about him, although he’d always remember her.”

“And then you were immediately slapped in the face and called an asshole for reciting cheesy lines from a book.”

“No. They hadn’t read the book, so they thought the words were mine and cried. I let them kiss me goodbye, and then they ran home in tears. They couldn’t even watch me leave, they were so sad. My last memory of them is their crying face in a window and their mom standing behind them, stroking their hair.”

“And was that your first kiss experience?”

“No. My friend was.”

“But you said the friend didn’t like you back.”

“I kind of kissed them first and then sort of told them I liked them after.”

“Ch’. Well, then. You really were a reckless kid.”

Leorio toasted Kurapika with the cup of chocolate and then ate a spoonful. Kurapika finally tried a bit of his own and nearly choked on how intense the flavor was. Killua would’ve drunk the glass like a shot and ordered three more.

“Let me advise you, if you ever want to tell someone you like them in the future, that you’d be better off using your words,” said Leorio. “Most adults don’t really go in for stealing kisses unless there’s an obvious mutual attraction. Using a kiss to confess is the coward’s way out.”

“Duh, Leorio. I know better now. Also, that’s not what I need advice for. Confessing is a whole other thing. I want to know how to cope with liking someone too much, whether they know it or not.”

“And you want me to tell you how to hide your feelings so you don’t scare someone off.”

“Yes. And also, maybe some advice how to get over it.”

“How to get over it depends a lot on the situation. Think of how you got over your friend when you were a kid.” Kurapika shifted uneasily in his seat as the thought crossed his mind. “It’s a question of time and distance, and there isn’t a real shortcut. I’m sure you already know that. If you want to be a good person about it, though, I suggest trying not to blame other people for your feelings for them, because that’s just petty. You’re not going to get over anything any faster if you make drama.”

“I take it you’ve been blamed for people’s feelings before.”

“A few times, but one time it was particularly ugly. I use it as a lesson to myself how not to react when someone turns me down. Now, as for how not to blow it on a date because,” Leorio laughed to himself, “well, because you’re way too into the other person….”

Leorio let his voice trail off. He rested his face in his hand heavily and muttered “good question” a few times as he stirred his drink.

“It’s hard to think of a definitive list,” he admitted after a few minutes of deliberation. “One, I’d say don’t give them the cold shoulder to try to seem cool and detached, because then you’re setting a precedent where you always have to treat them like a jerk. Two, keep in mind that no-one’s really forced to go on a date, ideally, so like, it’s kind of okay to show interest because that's the whole point of a date? Three, act normal. Four, I kinda feel like if knowing exactly how to act on a date with every single person you dated were easy, no-one would ever flop on a date. But, that’s impossible. People strike out all the time with people they really like. I’m not very helpful with these things, either, because I’m very bad at holding back how I feel.”

“What if you had a crush on a friend? How would you overcome that? Have you ever liked a friend and tried to keep it from them?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell them?”

“No.”

“Did they find out?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I tried to keep it to myself.”

“Do you think you hid it well? Or was it just too awkward for you--you were too agitated and obvious--and you gave yourself away in an instant? Is it even fair to hide that kind of thing from someone anyway, or would it just be better to admit it outright and take responsibility? If you say nothing, and then later the other person realizes how you feel, the situation could get worse because they can see you don’t trust them enough to be honest with them.”

Kurapika knew he was beginning to ramble as he touched too close to his current predicament and his most intimate concerns surrounding it. And yet, despite being aware of how awkward he sounded, he was still surprised when Leorio narrowed his eyes.

“Why?” asked Leorio. The pointed tone carried in this single word of question reflected all of Kurapika’s worst fears in an instant.

“What do you mean why?” Kurapika echoed back. “I’m just thinking of my own past experience in relation to your past and experience. I’m wondering if you can related to it. I’m just concerned that that kind of thing might happen to me again, and if you could offer some advice.”

“Really? Is that really what you’re asking me?”

“Well, yes. Of course. What else would I be talking about?”

The suspicion in Leorio’s eyes didn’t fade. He knew something else was going on. Kurapika was obviously lying to him, holding something back, and Leorio wasn’t going to let him get away with it. 

“What are you really getting at?”

“I’m not trying to get at anything, I’m just asking….”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Kurapika. You’ve been acting weird this whole time. Since when do you doze off in a restaurant? And what’s with all the questions about liking people and not telling them? Clearly you have a specific concern, and I’d prefer you were outright with it instead be beating around the bush.”

All sound seemed to stop. A slow panic began to spread within Kurapika. He’d been too obvious, then, it was true. Leorio had seen through him, and now things were going to get worse. He didn’t have a good excuse ready to explain his unusual behavior. He hadn’t assumed it’d be this hard to act normally around Leorio. His poor experience was beginning to show, and now it was going to ruin him.

“W-what are you talking about? I mean...I think it’s understandable that things have got a bit weird between us, and perhaps my behavior reflects that,” said Kurapika. He knew he had no choice but to admit the truth now, thought it wasn’t easy. He struggled clumsily to find the words, to say something that wouldn’t sound too embarrassing for him. He was confident he failed. 

“You’re the one who’s been most avoiding the topic that the last time we met it was to help me practice kissing,” said Kurapika, lowering his voice. “I’ve been trying to be casual and open about it, make it something inconsequential, but your avoidance is really obvious and creates this uncomfortable atmosphere. I want to make this easy, to let you know everything is fine, and I’m not going to treat you any differently from now on. I mean, I’m the one who asked you to help me, and you were gracious enough to do so, so, I’m the one to blame if this new, uncomfortable aspect has come between us. I realize now I’ve probably asked too much of you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me, and hopefully we can move on from this as two good friends, as we always were.”

Leorio’s expression went from suspicious to vanquished, as if he’d been found out and regretted it. He removed his teashades and held one of the long earpieces between his fingers, letting the lenses hang and watching them rock back and forth limply instead of looking at Kurapika. He thought for a long time, occasionally rubbing his eyes and sighing heavily. At last, he spoke, but he didn’t seem to do so willingly.

“I’m sorry I haven’t said anything earlier,” he said, “but I didn’t want to make things weird here. Feelings, especially romantic ones, always make things weird between people. I was hoping it wouldn’t come up, that it would kind of run its course naturally without becoming a big thing. I just figured I could play dumb and everything would be okay. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry about it…” said Kurapika, blushing over the earnest look of concern on Leorio’s face. “It’s not like it’s your fault. I’m really the one to blame for making such a production of it, asking you all those questions. But, I’ll get over it. How I feel shouldn’t interfere.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I’ll get over it, too, you know. Just time and distance, that’s it. I’ve been through this stuff before, so I know how it goes.“

Kurapika felt a mix of relief as well as curiosity. He wanted to believe that Leorio was right, that this was something they could both get over. Kurapika’s feelings for Leorio, which were certainly misplaced and immature, didn’t have to come between them. Leorio knew this kind of situation, had dealt with it before. It was not the end of the world yet.

“Do these things happen to you a lot?” asked Kurapika. He wondered how many people had ever confessed their feelings to Leorio before.

“They happen occasionally. It’s just a part of life. I get really close to people really fast, and sometimes it gets out of hand, either on my side or with the other person. You’re not the first time, probably won’t be the last. You’re not even the first guy, so….”

“Other guys? Really?”

“Well, normally it’s women. I mean, I like women, and I’m more comfortable pursuing them because I grew up in a place that encourages men to go after women a lot. It’s kind of a big part of how we see ourselves; we’re supposed to be great with women. You’re kind of on your own if you’re interested in men at all. But, I’ve always been a very outgoing guy. Like I said, I get close to people pretty fast. When that happens, people start to tell you about themselves. I’ve carried the weight of a lot of people’s secrets without having ever asked for it.”

“So a guy’s confessed to you before that he liked you?”

“Yes. A couple times. It’s just part of the circles I run in at home in the city where I live.”

“What did you do those times? Did it ever go bad?”

“I did nothing particularly special; turned them down gently mostly. The first time, though, I did everything wrong. A guy confessed to me that he liked me, and when I said I didn’t feel that way…well, I think it was partly his fear I was going to somehow tell people about him, but he didn’t handle it well. We were teenagers, and teenagers are terrible at this stuff. He tried to control it, to make his problems my problem, to put a lot of responsibility on me for his well-being. And I let him, because I felt guilty about how alone he was, like if something happened to him it’d be my fault because I was the only one he’d confided in with his problems.”

Kurapika couldn’t even tell if he was breathing as he listened. The new insight into Leorio’s past engrossed him. All of the sudden he wanted to know absolutely everything about Leorio, and was shocked to see how little he’d been told so far. Possessing knowledge of Leorio’s past and personal life felt like holding onto more of Leorio himself. The more he knew, the more tied they were together. It reassured him that, even though Leorio had guessed that Kurapika had developed feelings for him since they’d last met, they were still close friends, perhaps even closer than ever before. 

“I would never do that to someone who didn’t like me back,” said Kurapika to reassure Leorio that he wouldn’t selfishly burden Leorio with romantic feelings that were neither Leorio’s fault nor his responsibility.

“I know. And neither would I. I’m just saying I’ve dealt with the ugly side of unrequited feelings before, and I’ve learned from it not to let things get out of hand. It also, unfortunately, is an experience that makes me typically avoid confessing my own feelings outright to people who I have no business imposing that stuff on.”

“And so, what happened to that guy who liked you? Was it really that bad that it affects you even now?”

Leorio broke into a wry smile and shook his head. “I actually don’t know?” he said with a shrug. “It’s crazy, because at one point I almost caved. I nearly bought into this idea he had that the reason I was so worried about him all the time was because I really did like him back, but that I was just too stubborn to admit it. He would’ve been a difficult guy to date, and I knew that and was too lazy or scared to step up to the plate.”

“That’s not true. You’re just too nice.”

“And stupid. I was very, very stupid as a teenager.”

“But in the end you didn’t go along. So in the end, you weren’t convinced.”

“Yeah. Fortunately, I told a guy who was actually my best friend, who I’d known since I was a kid, about some of what was going on. I was getting too miserable to keep it to myself anymore, and that guy was the quietest, most chill person I knew, so I figured he’d at least listen to me. That guy talked sense into me. It was the most I’d ever heard him speak in my entire life. When that guy relapsed later--he’d always been sick since we were kids--I lost track of everything else, of everyone else, and the other friend who ‘liked’ me sort of just went away. At the time I was angry about it and felt betrayed, because when you’re a kid you always believe it when someone says they’re in love with you. But, now I get that he was just the kind of person who needed to be the one with problems, and who was incapable of dealing with other people’s stuff. But back then, in the moment, it just made me feel more alone, more abandoned. In general, it was a very difficult time.”

Kurapika had crossed his arms over the table and, along with Leorio, watched the sway of the teashades still dangling from between Leorio’s fingers. Kurapika was the one who sighed and sat back first. He plucked a napkin from its cage-like basket and wiped a few drops of cooled chocolate from the brim of the saucer in front of him. Leorio opened the teashades and put them back on. He resumed eating, complaining the chocolate was getting cold with him talking so much. He encouraged Kurapika to finish his own as well, and then they could talk about the important thing, which was haggling in markets, if Kurapika was still interested.

“I understand if you want to stay apart from me for a while,” said Leorio after a long silence Kurapika had unintentionally let fall between them. “I really only came back into town now because Senritsu suggested it. I’ll give you space if you need it.”

“No, that will just make things more awkward, like just now when you wouldn’t talk about kissing me. I don’t think avoiding things is going to help. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I think we should still continue as normal.”

“Are you sure you’re fine with that?”

“Are you?”

“Uh...I guess.”

“Then we can try and see how it goes. I don’t want us to not be friends over something like this.”

“Nor do I.”

A group of chattering girls entered as Kurapika and Leorio ate their now cooled chocolate diligently. Kurapika muttered that it would be impossible to talk much now with all the noise, while Leorio marveled at how so many teenage girls could be out in the middle of the day. There weren’t any schools nearby that he remembered. 

One girl let out a loud peal of laughter at some muffled comment from her compatriot. Kurapika, in the middle of finishing his last spoonful of chocolate, froze. He looked over to the booth table where the girls had pulled up extra chairs and piled their book bags in a heap. One by one he studied each face until his eyes landed on the exact girl he sought: Neon Nostrade.

“How the hell…in all the city…” hissed Kurapika as he stared and listened to the girls talk about the stupid look on a teacher’s face that was bound to appear once it was obvious seven students had skipped class together. “As if my afternoon hasn’t been ruined enough already.”

Leorio looked over as well and cracked a slow smile.

“Some couples seem to have a magnetic attraction to each other,” he admitted with false solemnity, desperately fighting not to laugh in Kurapika’s face even as he mocked him without mercy. “In yours and Neon’s case, however, that seems to be literal.”


	16. The Worst is Over

Before Kurapika could leap to his feet, Leorio was already up and crossing the floor. When he arrived at the table, a girl automatically told him to come back later; they hadn’t decided on their order yet. Leorio smiled pleasantly and told her he wasn’t there to take any orders. Neon, who’d been distracted showing a girl next to her something on her phone, jumped at the sound of Leorio’s voice and looked up. Leorio said hello to her. She responded weakly.

“Let me guess; Kurapika’s around here, isn’t he?”

“That’s a generous conclusion to jump to. You think that guy spends all his free time with me?” asked Leorio. All of the girls were staring up at him now, each head tilted far back in order catch a glimpse of his face.

“I dunno. You’re like his only friend, aren’t you?”

“I’m actually not.”

Neon scoffed like she didn’t believe this. “He doesn’t leave the house enough to have more friends than you.”

“He does. I know them. Many of them are mutual friends of mine.”

Neon laughed. There was a bitter note to it. “He isn’t with all his other friends right now, is he? Of course, knowing that guy, he’ll probably be here in two seconds anyway, dragging them along like he brought you along to the party last week. He’ll get here before I can even try the hot chocolate. It’s a waking nightmare with that guy.”

“Why would he come out here?”

“Well, duh, I’m supposed to be in school still.”

“Really?” asked Leorio. He gestured around the nearly empty café. “Just to come here? You know that this place is open practically 24-hours, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m grounded. Didn’t Kurapika tell you that? He told on me to my dad about that stupid party.”

“He’s going to tell on you for skipping school, too.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t get more grounded than I already am, so who cares? My dad doesn’t care if I miss school anyway.”

“He’ll care that you’re out without security, Miss Nostrade.”

Neon groaned and didn’t even look over as Kurapika arrived to the table. Her friends, meanwhile, gasped. One girl covered her mouth while whispering something about Lora being right, Kurapika really did appear from nowhere like a ghost.

“Well I guess you’re here now, so I’m saved,” grumbled Neon. “Like I’m ever alone for ten minutes without you showing up.”

Neon held up her phone and snapped a selfie of her miserable face with a blurry Kurapika just visible in the background over her shoulder. She wrote a tagline to accompany it, and then updated everyone who knew her on social media about her current suffering. She shrugged and tried to take a photo of Leorio next, but he stepped out of the shot and held up a menu to cover his face.

“C’mon Leolio, I’ve told everyone that Kurapika has a dorky hot friend. Please? Just one photo so I can prove it.”

“It’s not responsible to have your face all over social media in my profession.”

“Ugh. That’s exactly what Lora’s dad says. Be cool, Leolio. Be cooler than Lora’s dad.”

“Leolio isn’t my name, and I’m what you call classically cool. You know, mysterious. Also, considering your father’s line of work, you ought to be more careful who you snap photos of without asking permission.”

Kurapika stepped between them, knowing Neon had endless time-wasting counter-arguments which were futile to debate against, because what she lacked in persuasion skills she more than made up for with a tenacious focus on getting the last word no matter the cost. “That’s enough talk,” he said. “I’m going to have to stay with you now, Miss Nostrade. You know that. Leorio, you can go home.”

“Oh yeah, there was an r in it,” muttered Neon as she looked down at the comments appearing under the picture she’d already uploaded.

Kurapika pulled out his wallet and counted some jenny notes to hand to Leorio. “Here’s my part of the bill. Sorry. You keep the change. I guess I’m working now, and I don’t carry change while working.”

Kurapika kept himself under control and didn’t cringe when Leorio’s fingers brushed his to take the money. Leorio politely wished them all a good afternoon and went to the bar to pay. As he left, Kurapika let his eyes linger on the space between Leorio’s shoulders. He felt unhappy, cheated in a way from a date that’d been both the last thing he’d wanted to do, and yet had ended far sooner than he’d been ready for.

In truth, Kurapika had wanted to ask Leorio more, to see what Leorio proposed they do now that he’d deduced Kurapika’s feelings. Leorio had done this stuff before, unlike Kurapika, who’d lied and had never actually stopped imagining being with his friend Pairo forever until the dark day he’d finally accepted the full reality of Pairo’s death. It was the same day he’d accepted that he’d never see his own mother again, or stupid Melpik, or crying Aitora who’d thought of him the way Ramzi’s daughter had thought of Hunter D as he’d departed from her life forever. They were all gone, everyone he’d ever known, and whatever ache in his heart he might’ve harbored over Pairo’s rejection had been dwarfed with a much greater pain he’d molded into anger and then used to fuel his quest for revenge.

If he’d had a moment, Kurapika would’ve reassured Leorio that it couldn’t really be love that Kurapika felt for him, so there was no reason to worry or let it interfere with their friendship. Kurapika’s heart was too full of hatred and anguish to have room left to truly love anyone. It was more that he was dreaming with his eyes open, getting caught up in the pleasure of mapping out the stages of a romantic fantasy based only on the fact that he and Leorio had shared a few kisses together for a practical reason unrelated to romance. All that had happened was that Kurapika had unintentionally imprinted his natural, youthful desires onto the person most available to him, the same as he had done to Pairo as a child. Kurapika was sorry. He hoped that, with Leorio’s experience and his own earnest effort, they could move on.

“You should tell my dad I skipped school to go on a date with you,” said Neon. “He’ll believe you if you convince him that it’s a normal thing for teenage girls to do when they’re grounded.”

“I have no incentive to lie to your father for you,” said Kurapika. “I would be undermining his authority by taking you on a date without his approval. Get up and let’s go home.”

Neon gaped at Kurapika. Though Kurapika had always been strict, he’d rarely commanded her outright to leave someplace without an inciting incident pushing him to it. “What?” she demanded, not budging from her seat.

“Someone from the house should be here in an hour, and I’m not letting you spend a second of it enjoying yourself.”

“An hour is plenty of time for a snack,” said Neon with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Don’t be in such a rush.”

“It is plenty of time. I know,” said Kurapika. He directed Neon’s friends to move their chairs apart so that Neon had a clear path to exit the booth. They did so, unsettled by the sudden harshness of his manner towards her. “But I don’t get paid overtime to babysit you like I have to now. You’ve ruined my afternoon by showing up here; do you know that? I know you think it’s hilarious I have a friend, but it was accurate of him to call your assumption that I spend all my free time with him ‘generous’. I don’t see my friends much, any of them. So, I’m actually angry with you for this. So, if you’d please grab your coat, we need to go wait somewhere you’ll be bored for an hour until the car gets here. It’ll bore me, too, but I’ll take comfort knowing you’re suffering with me.”

Automatically, Neon must’ve wanted to get mad, to throw something, to refuse to rise from where she was sitting, but Kurapika knew she wouldn’t dare. Now that Neon had friends, she had a good reason not to throw tantrums in public like a child. If anything, her socialization among her peers had taught her a measure of pride. Kurapika was using that pride against her now, giving her no choice but to follow him out of the restaurant and back home.

Neon ultimately obeyed, but she didn’t by any means go gently. She stood with a violent abruptness, knocking the napkin basket off the table with her purse and letting out a dull “oops” as it clattered against Kurapika’s feet. While she was walking behind him to the door, she kicked the basket so that it crashed hard into his ankles. Kurapika glanced down and said nothing as he picked the basket up and placed it on a near table. Neon said “oops” again and shuffled her feet to make a mess of the napkins that had drifted to the floor. A few of her friends behind her giggled and cheered, as though this petulant act were on par with the most cutting retort.

“I hate you,” said Neon when they were outside. “I really hate you. I can’t stand being near you.”

“Don’t be so hard on him; the guy’s doing his job,” said Leorio. Kurapika turned to see him leaning against the wall of the café, smoking a cigarette in the shade of the low, ornamental orange trees.

“You’re still here, Leorio?” asked Neon, perking up at the sight of him and rushing forward before Kurapika could hold her back. “Were you waiting for us? You’re such a good friend.”

“Nope, of course I wasn’t. Kurapika told me to go home. I’m just having a cigarette before I head out.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Neon. Leorio winked and she laughed. Kurapika stood off to the side, little more than a grave-faced shadow, and waited. “You should come with us to wait for the car, Leorio. I’m sorry I interrupted your hanging out with Kurapika.”

“You’re sorry to me?” asked Leorio, snorting with laughter. He looked at Kurapika over the sparkling bow in Neon’s hair and grinned. Kurapika crossed his arms and turned away.

“Yeah. I mean, Kurapika’s a jerk, but you’re his much nicer friend, and I feel bad for you. There are much better friends you can have than Kurapika, you know.”

“I’m aware,” said Leorio, crushing the cigarette against the wall and standing up straight. Neon took a step back.

“You’re so much taller close up,” she cheered before getting more serious. “Anyway, I’m grounded, so this might be the last time I ever see you before Kurapika tells on me, and I’m locked in a tower or something by my dad. Come with us. You and Kurapika can keep hanging out. Just, act like I’m not here. I want to see what Kurapika is like when he isn’t a nonstop jerk.”

“You’ll have to be dreaming to see that. He doesn’t turn his attitude off on my account”

“Shut up, Leorio,” said Kurapika. Neon clapped a hand over her mouth and hopped excitedly, thrilled to see Kurapika acting like a human, even if it entailed him snapping at Leorio. “Don’t humor her. Just go home.”

“Nah,” said Leorio. “I’m curious about Neon. You and Senritsu always talk about her. I’ll go with you guys.” He stepped out into the square and asked Kurapika where the car was going to meet them, as though he thought Kurapika might actually tell him. Neon told Leorio instead and led the way while Kurapika sighed and followed reluctantly behind them.

“Yay, you’re cool!” said Neon to Leorio. She walked alongside him and took his arm in her hands, giving the thin excuse that she needed to direct him. “Also, you know Senritsu, do you? She’s my favorite. She’s way nicer than Kurapika. Has she told you great things about me?”

“Yeah. A little. She’s also told me some not-so-great things.”

“Ah, well, I sometimes run away from her, so that makes sense. It’s not personal. She probably doesn’t complain about me nearly as much as Kurapika does, though.”

“Kurapika doesn’t complain that much. He doesn’t really complain about a whole lot in general.”

“Seriously? But he’s so mean.”

“He acts like a jerk, but he isn’t really one. I can count on my hand the number of times I’ve seen him get really mad.”

“Like just now?”

“When?”

“In the café. And right now, too. Behind us.”

“Ah. No. He wasn’t mad just now.”

“But he said he was.”

“He was exaggerating because he was annoyed. Trust me; you’d definitely have noticed if he were seriously mad at you. You’ll probably never see it, though. There’s no reason for him to ever get that mad at you. He does get really aggravated, though. He isn’t very patient with people.”

Neon beamed like hearing how annoying she was to Kurapika was an accomplishment she was particularly proud of. Leorio looked over his shoulder back to Kurapika. Kurapika shook his head at him forebodingly and mouthed for him to stop. Leorio didn’t stop.

“You know,” said Leorio to Neon after clearing his throat loudly, “Senritsu actually told me the other day that I should talk to you. She said I might even see you around here.”

“Did she? She’s the one who recommended the chocolate place to me. Why did she want you to talk to me, though? Did she know I’d think you were cool?”

“Something like that. But mostly, she’s worried about you and Kurapika.”

“Really? Well, at least someone cares. Does she want you to help me? Did she ask you to give me advice on how to make Kurapika stop being a jerk all the time? Or how to put up with him? You should definitely have some pointers on that. You must be really good at it if you call him a friend.”

“No, not exactly. She told me to ask you for a job.”

Kurapika’s step faltered. He quickened his pace to stay fixed within listening range.

“What can you do?” asked Neon. She leaned heavily on Leorio’s arm in a more confidential manner, as though trying to shut Kurapika out of the conversation. Kurapika still caught every word. “Do you seriously want to teach me how to put up with Kurapika? I was joking.”

“Senritsu told me you were tired of Kurapika and wanted a new boyfriend.”

Neon laughed like this was a joke. “I wish you could be my new boyfriend,” she said with over-emphasized longing. “But, I’m stuck with Kurapika. I’m supposed to go with him to the Moreau Ball. After that, I won’t need a boyfriend. In fact, I’m officially done with boyfriends after this stupid ball. I’m swearing off them. It’s too much work. Sorry about that. It was a good try, though, Leorio. Maybe try again when I’m twenty, and you’re rich.”

“Senritsu told me you’re allow to bring a guest now.”

Neon stopped dead in her tracks with a shriek of giddy surprise. She released Leorio’s arm in order to clap her hands. Kurapika was also surprised, and stared blankly at Leorio while the bells on Neon’s cuffs jingled merrily in her unrestrained joy.

“Wait, you mean the request went through? I’m not stuck with Kurapika? You’re totally becoming my favorite guy, Leorio.”

“Thank Senritsu. She told me she and Linsen got to speak to Dr. Moreau directly a little while ago. They told Dr. Moreau you were hoping to invite someone who wants to get started in your mutual hobby.”

“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know anyone else personally who….”

Leorio titled his head towards the third person in their small group. Neon’s eyes widened.

“Kurapika likes collecting, too?” she asked. Leorio nodded. Kurapika, three feet from Neon and looking her in the face, rolled his eyes at her choice to ask Leorio that question instead of him. Neon didn’t even register the gesture. Leorio held out his arm to her, and she took it again so they could continue walking down the street.

“He wants to get started in it once he has enough money,” said Leorio.

“Well, why didn’t he tell me? I totally could’ve shown him all my neat stuff.”

“He’s seen it all already. It’s common knowledge he’s always admiring your collection on his time off. He’s, uh, told me all about it.”

“Whaaaat? Really?” Neon was now ecstatic. There was nothing that made a flesh collector happier than knowing their private collection was appreciated and possibly envied. “He must’ve really got into it in York Shin, I think. Or in the bodyguard auditions, and then bidding in York Shin just cemented it for him. It’s too bad. If I still knew how to tell fortunes for people, I’d use the money to buy him something cool to get started. Does he like teeth? There was a really cool set of whistling incisors at the Oskura Market a few weeks ago. Fedrik’s dad knows the vendor who had them. I was hoping if I dated Fedrik a little, he’d get me those incisors as a gift. I really loved them. They had tiny prayers carved into them in cyuniform.”

“Cuneiform,” snapped a tired voice just behind them. Neon and Leorio paused to look back at Kurapika.

“I guess you really are an expert,” said Neon. She reached her free hand to take Kurapika by the elbow and pull him to her other side so that she was walking between both Hunters, arms intertwined in theirs like a chain. “Why didn’t you tell me before? Huh? We could’ve talked for ages. I bet you’re great at the technical stuff.”

“I…didn’t know,” said Kurapika, glaring over Neon to Leorio. “I didn’t know how much collecting really meant to me until very recently, you could say.”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s kinda a weird hobby at first, but it’s really exciting once you start. The world is full of so many treasures, so many different kinds of people. Some humans are a lot like animals, like links between normal people and all the intelligent beasts around the world. I wonder if people mix with the beasts sometimes. Or if they marry demons and have little, twisted babies covered in snake scales that dislocate their jaws to swallow chickens whole and stuff. The world is full of crazy things like that, you know? But what am I saying? You Hunters probably know all about it, but you never tell anyone. You just walk around all creepy and quiet and keep it to yourselves. All the amazing things you see are normal to you, I guess; you’re all so used to it.”

“I’ve never really been called quiet,” said Leorio. “And I haven’t seen any babies covered in snake scales, either.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You don’t seem like a Hunter at first, really. Not like, the usual type.”

“Hunters haven’t got a usual type,” said Kurapika, with a sudden forcefulness that surprised Neon and Leorio both. They gawked at him as he continued. “You’re only used to working with a few specific types, Miss Nostrade, but there are more types of Hunters than you can imagine. A Hunter like Leorio would never involve himself with the criminal underworld, because the underbelly of society can’t procure what it is he wants.”

“Oh, really? What does he want?”

“An ideal. A world better than the one that currently exists. Something totally impossible.”

“As in…?”

“It’s not my place to divulge the exact details about a fellow Hunter’s motivation. It’s something personal. Ask him yourself.”

Neon looked to Leorio expectantly, but Leorio was watching Kurapika.

“Hey, Leorio, what’s your big Hunter mission?” asked Neon. She prodded him in the side with her elbow. “Tell me your big dream.”

“I’m just a student,” said Leorio distantly. “I’m in school….”

“That’s boring. What do you study?”

“I’m going to be a doctor.”

“Seriously? But wouldn’t being a Hunter be more fun? Doctors have to work super hard. Being a Hunter is cooler. Also, you’re never going to get rich enough to date me when I’m twenty if you’re just a doctor.”

“I’m not going to date you when you’re twenty,” said Leorio, patting Neon’s hand to comfort her at this sad news. “Hunters make terrible boyfriends. All we care about are impossible things. If you listen to Kurapika, what I want might just be one of the most impossible things.”

“Yeah, well, what’s really going to be impossible is convincing my dad to let you take me to the Moreau Ball,” said Neon. “I can’t hire you for that. My dad decides all that kinda stuff. You’ll have to talk to him first. He’ll probably say no and just make that weirdo Linsen take me. Ew. Imagine showing up to a ball with that guy. I’d rather just not go at all. In fact, if I don’t get to go with someone cool. I’m just going to stay home. It’s settled.”

“Let’s hope I’m cool enough for your dad then.”

Leorio fell back slightly, letting the eager Neon pull him along a bit as she led the way and asked Kurapika questions about what he thought of specific items in her collection. Kurapika could no longer see Leorio’s face around the apex of Neon’s high-piled and sparkly ribbon laden hair. The voluminous layers of her dress obscured even Leorio’s legs and feet past occasional glimpses. Kurapika watched the portion of Leorio’s arm that hooked around Neon’s instead. When he looked into Neon’s face, he let his eyes flit over the outline of Leorio’s hair and the edge of his torso that Neon didn’t block.

“When we get home, we’re going straight to my little museum,” said Neon when they reached the wide street Kurapika said Linsen would pick them up on. “I’d invite you, Leorio, but I don’t know if you like the kinds of things I collect. I have a whole exhibit hall full of treasures, though. I call it a museum. They’re like art to me. I can’t be parted with them for more than week without feeling homesick. Maybe if you’d like, though, we can take you home with us, and I can show you around.”

“I’d love to see it, but I’m busy, unfortunately.”

“You don’t have to lie,” said Neon, punching him in the shoulder playfully. “I can tell when someone doesn’t have my same opinion on these things, like, that it grosses them out. But you have to realize, though, that all the different people in the world are all like individual works of art. Some are polished and perfectly forgettable, but others are exceptional and must be preserved. It’s an honor to be desired for what you are without putting effort into who you are. That’s real value. It’s more permanent than people judging your worth for something like intelligence or popularity. You can have an accident and your brain will turn to mush, and then you won’t be smart anymore. You can be popular, but then time passes, the trend changes, and people find you boring and stupid. But, if you’re infected by blood ivy parasites and you begin to sprout flowering vines from your superficial veins, that’s something special that the world needs to see and admire, because it’s something really unique.”

“It’s also a horrible way to die,” said Leorio. He took a seat on a nearby bench and searched for a pack of cigarettes in his coat. “A disease like that should never be permitted to manifest up to the terminal phase.”

“I mean, yeah, it’s a terrible disease,” admitted Neon, “but sometimes that sort of thing just happens. It’s one of the sad and beautiful things in nature, and you have to embrace that terrifying side of life and respect it.”

Leorio offered a grim smile and shook his head. He thought twice and put the cigarettes away without removing one.

“Well, that’s a bad example. Neon,” said Leorio. He motioned for her to sit down, but she remained standing, letting go of Kurapika to cross her arms and hear Leorio out. Kurapika shrugged and sat down at the opposite end of the bench from Leorio, watching him curiously as he began to speak.

“You see,” said Leorio with a sigh, “it’s always been fairly difficult for a human to contract blood ivy parasites, as their natural host is the venous capuchin. In the past few decades, the overall morbidity rate has been even further reduced with health campaigns in the affected regions. That’s what makes the disease especially rare. It also means that nowadays, whenever those parasites are discovered to have been contracted by a human, especially when the patient has advanced well into the terminal phase before seeking treatment, the cause is always thoroughly investigated, and the results usually prove a sinister motive. It’s to the point that the statistics are now skewed and falsely indicate the disease has a higher mortality rate in children under the age of seven, when the terrible fact is that small children are just more likely to be intentionally infected and allowed to die. On top of that, in order to obtain the telltale ‘vines’ in a human, the progression of the disease has to be meticulously managed to make sure they sprout outwards and not inwards. See, the problem is we have much smaller veins than the venous capuchin, especially when we’re children, and those small veins crowd easily.”

Neon, to Kurapika’s amazement, sneered. “Ch’. That’s just a silly conspiracy theory,” she said. “That’s what they say to drive up the price on the market because the current strain of the disease doesn’t produce as many flowers on the vines as it used to. Everyone knows that children in that part of the world spend more time in trees collecting fruit, and that’s where the venous capuchins live, so the kids have a bigger risk. You’ve clearly only heard the anti-flesh collecting rhetoric people on the outside of the community make up because they can’t just admit that they think body parts are gross and leave it at that. They have to demonize us as well.”

“I don’t think human body parts are gross. I’m going to be a doctor. It requires a strong stomach. I even understand retaining them for medical and educational purposes. But, I don’t really understand how they can be a hobby.”

“Then you need to expand your sources of information. Kurapika and I both see it as an art, so you should really hear us out before believing what people on the outside say.”

“Sure.”

“What do you mean just ‘sure’? You’re…you’re not going to argue?”

“No. You’re right. I don’t know why people have your hobby. I don’t know anything about it, really. You seem like a pretty normal person, though. Kurapika is my friend. I guess I’ll have to learn about it eventually.”

Neon uncrossed her arms and plopped down on the bench between Kurapika and Leorio. She sidled up to Leorio first, until her shoulder was brushing his. She placed an arm on his shoulder and then, without looking over, reached to her other side and pulled Kurapika a bit closer so she could rest her other arm on him. Her elbows now up at two disparate heights, Neon let out a content sigh and leaned back, settling comfortably into the last half hour they had to wait for the car to arrive.

“I’m beginning to see why you’re friends with Kurapika,” said Neon to Leorio. “You have an open mind. It’s refreshing to be around someone so laid-back and reasonable for once.”

“It’s a trick; he’s actually a spaz,” muttered Kurapika beside her. Leorio nodded when Neon look at him to see if he’d refute this.

“Kurapika’s right, I’m a nervous wreck,” he said without expression. Neon laughed and pulled her arms back to squeeze both their shoulders. Kurapika shrugged her off.

“You guys are great together. I really hope you get to go to the ball with us, Leorio. I might actually have fun with you around. But then again, that might be a good reason for my dad not to let you go.”

“I’ll try to convince your father,” said Kurapika. “You should go with Leorio. He’s better than I am at this dating stuff. He’s a real expert.”

“But you tried, Kurapika. That’s the important thing,” said Neon, patting him on the shoulder in consolation. She gasped suddenly and turned back to Leorio, forgetting Kurapika in seconds. “Leorio, it’s really important, and I need to know right now; _can you dance_?”

“Yes.”

Neon squealed and announced that this settled everything: if Leorio couldn’t go to the Moreau Ball with her, she wasn’t going. Period. End of story. They’d have to knock her out and drag her to get her to go with anyone else.

Forgotten and alone, Kurapika slid back down the bench towards his end. He watched Neon quiz Leorio over what dances he was familiar with and how well he knew them. Neon confessed that she herself hardly knew any dances, and she expected Leorio to carry that weight and do most of the work leading her. That was how she remembered dancing worked; the girl followed and looked cute, but the guy had to know where to go and when to spin her around in circles. As long as the guy knew what he was doing, the couple was more or less fine. Leorio tried to tell her five different ways that this wasn’t entirely the case, but Neon rattled on louder and drowned him out.

A wave of relief washed over Kurapika. It was hard to tell if it was because he was happy to learn that he might not have to date Neon again, or if he was immensely thankful that, if this plan worked out, he wouldn’t have to face another date with Leorio, either. Kurapika wouldn’t have known what to expect between them on a date after confessing to him. Most likely he would’ve spent the entire time wishing Leorio would kiss him for some reason, just to make his incessant dreams of that scenario a reality. 

Kurapika inwardly rolled his own eyes at himself as his mind took the opportunity to detour into thoughts of kissing Leorio. He focused his attention at the end of the street, waiting for Linsen and the car to arrive. His next step was to get over these feelings and his stupid daydreams as soon as possible. He might not have got over Pairo as a child, but Kurapika was an adult now. He’d get over Leorio. He had to. He couldn’t lose a friend to something as fleeting and stupid as physical attraction. He wouldn’t allow himself to confuse that attraction for something deeper and even more ridiculous, like actual romantic love.

The hard part, Kurapika told himself, was over. Everything was out in the open, and Leorio had been understanding. Everything was looking up. He didn’t even have to date anyone anymore. This was good. This couldn’t be more ideal. Everything had gone the best possible way.

Kurapika stifled a sigh and rose from the bench to pace around the sidewalk and quell his nervous energy. Inside, something told him nothing was ideal. Haunting him was the enduring sensation that he still wanted more than what he had, but he didn’t want to think of what it meant. His thoughts still trailed off in all the wrong directions, and he couldn’t stop them. He wondered how long it would take to fully recover, because right now it almost felt like, deep down, he might not. At least not any time soon, regardless how superficially everything seemed to improve.

* * *

The hard part was over. Leorio repeated this to himself, but in truth he didn’t believe it. As Neon climbed into the car, assuring him happily that she would definitely speak to her father and do everything she could to make him allow Leorio to escort her to the ball, Leorio already felt the thudding pangs of regret beginning. He couldn’t remember what about Senritsu’s argument had convinced him to come rushing back and see Kurapika too soon after less than week since their last, nerve-wrackingly intimate encounter. He’d known he wasn’t ready, and yet...and yet the success of Kurapika’s mission to attend the ball and gain a foothold in the flesh collecting community had been more important than Leorio’s mixed-up feelings.

Leorio reminded himself he shouldn’t blame Kurapika, or even Senritsu. The only one to blame was himself.

Leorio waved back to Neon as she made dramatic faces and rolled her eyes at Kurapika repeatedly from the back seat of the chauffeured car as it carried her and her bodyguards away down the street. When the car finally disappeared around a corner, Leorio allowed his arm to drop. He found the nearest café-bar and ducked inside, ordering a coffee with brandy in it, and whipping out his phone to call Senritsu from a corner table near the back.

“I was an idiot to keep it from him, Senritsu, he saw right the fuck through me. I should never have come back into town. This was a mistake.”

“Leorio, please, what are you talking about?”

“Kurapika.”

“Is he okay?”

“Kurapika’s on to me.”

“On to you?”

“He totally called me out.”

“Called you out for what?”

“You know for what. You’re always telling me for what. I’ve been out of town all this time because  of for what.”

“Wait. So you mean he knows you’re in love with him?”

“Don’t say it like that. That sounds worse.”

“You told him you’re in love with him.”

“Not...in _those words_ exactly. But I didn’t have to. He already knew. I wasn’t about to make it worse mentioning love or something like that. Telling someone you’re in love sounds way too serious and intimidating. I didn’t want to scare him.”

“So then what did you even say to him?”

“I told him he was right.”

“Leorio, please. Speak up and try to be a little more coherent. I can practically hear your pulse racing through the phone, and I barely understand what you’re trying to say. Did Kurapika specifically say that he knows you’re in love with him?”

“He didn’t say it _specifically_ , no. He’s polite, like me. He knows that love is not a gentle word to use between friends. You have to be delicate, you know? He just went around it by asking me various obvious, loaded questions, until I just unraveled like a dropped spool and told him the truth. I’ve never apologized harder in my life. I’ve never felt so guilty for something so beyond my control.”

“How do you think he found out?”

“Apparently I was being really obvious, avoiding the topic of teaching him how to kiss last week in a really suspicious way.”

“Oh. You would.”

“Hey, I wasn’t ready, Senritsu, okay? I wasn’t ready to come back here so soon. Why doesn’t the offer to teach him dating over the phone still stand, anyway? We should’ve tried that first. I absolutely was not ready to see him like, physically there. And I failed. And now everything is terrible.”

“I don’t think you’ve failed. Maybe he’ll like you back now. Who knows?”

“I don’t want him to like me back right now, though. I don’t need him to like me back right now. What good would that do? I’m not about to go hunt the Phantom Troupe with him as a pair bonding activity. _I’ve got exams._ ”

“But maybe you could influence him to take another path, or maybe—”

“No. That’s not my place. It’s not my place to tell him the only thing he wants in his life is wrong. I would never do that even on the remotest off-chance he’d entertain a single word I said. If he became a Hunter for this, then it’s not something he’s going to give up on just because he’s in love with someone who doesn’t agree. Love isn’t enough to hold a Hunter back. You and I have already talked about this.”

“But a subtle influence might help.”

“Thinking like you will hurt me more than it’ll help him, I’m sure of it. And anyway, why are we even talking like he’s going to like me back? That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? I just need to find some way to endure the fact that he knows I like him now. I’m not even going to entertain your dream scenario where he reciprocates my feelings and turns over a new leaf.”

“But are you so sure he won’t like you back, though?”

“Stop even asking. I have better options than Kurapika if I really want a relationship.”

“Love isn’t a matter of choosing your best option, Leorio.”

“Senritsu. Please try to be sympathetic. Can’t you hear through this phone that I’m freaking out?”

“You’re worried for nothing. I don’t think Kurapika is mad at you. And I don’t think you’ve scared him off. Believe me. I hear all the time how happy he is around you. He’s not going to give that up. He needs you more than you think.”

“Yeah well he’s also the reigning world champion of the cold shoulder.”

“He can’t disappear completely on you now. Not when you’re going to be dating Neon in his place.”

“But that’s just going to make it more obvious when he does blow me off, because I’ll be standing right there when it happens. At least when he ignores the phone, I don’t have to see it. I can make an excuse for him. I can live in denial.”

“Take it easy, Leorio. I don’t think he’s going to shun you. Trust me.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“You’re his friend. You’re more important to him than you think.”

“I’m his friend who has feelings for him. That changes everything.”

“Perhaps it’ll changes things for the better.”

“You’re wrong. It won’t.”

Leorio stirred the two neat layers of coffee and brandy together into a homogenous black liquid that glisten thickly with sugar and spirit. He took a sip while Senritsu waited silently on the other end. He hadn’t hung up yet, leaving her to patiently wait to see why not.

“Can you let me know how he is when he gets back?” asked Leorio, emboldened by the hot sensation of alcohol in his throat although he definitely wasn’t drunk on only one sip. “Like, look after him, make sure he’s fine? We didn’t get to talk much after Neon arrived. He’s probably confused. I feel bad thinking he might be feeling bad now because of me.”

“I’ll listen in when he gets here, but I don’t really think there’s going to be much to report that you can’t already guess unless I actually confront him, and that won’t be subtle at all.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You don’t have to tell me how he is, then. Just help him, okay? If he seems to be having a hard time...be there for him.”

“I’m always there, Leorio. You always tell me the same.”

“This time is different. This time his problem is my fault.”

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Finish your drink and go home and get some rest. You’re going to need all your energy looking after Neon. Trust me.”

“I know. I will. I’ve heard plenty enough about her from you and Kurapika. I just hope her father goes along.”

“He will. Trust me.”

“What does that mean?”

“The important thing is to that you’re appealing to Neon. Just stay on her good side.”

“That all sounds vaguely ominous.”

“Ask Kurapika if you want to pry. This isn’t a private line, and he’s very particular about discussing how things operate in this house.”

“I’m not going to pry. I’m going to finish this coffee and head out. Just, you know, you remember about Kurapika. Keep an eye on him for me.”

“As always.”

Leorio finally ended the call and pocket his phone. He didn’t feel that much better now than he had before calling, except now he had the extra worry about what if Kurapika started returning his feelings. He drank the coffee quickly and silently and assured himself that there was minimal risk of such a thing happening. If Kurapika could date him and kiss him repeatedly but throughout it all feel nothing more than an understable level embarrassment, then Kurapika wasn’t interested. He wasn’t the kind of guy to develop feelings, because he wasn’t a total, nonsensical idiot like Leorio.

Kurapika was smarter than Leorio anyway, right? He was the expert at books and culture and understanding how people thought. Leorio should trust that Kurapika, in all his benevolent good sense, wouldn’t judge someone too harshly for getting carried away in their affection. He knew Leorio was just a very affectionate guy. Sometimes his feelings went overboard. Leorio had literally told him that.

Leorio reminded himself as he set down the empty glass and rose to leave the table that it was healthier to have things out in the open, because if they remained trapped inside they would stew and become like a monster in one’s chest, always biting and scratching and threatening to burst out. Things were better this way, even if at that precise moment everything felt terrible. Senritsu was right. Perhaps this was a change for the better. The sooner his repressed and unrequited feelings died, the sooner he could return to being a great friend.

Leorio recited the positive spin to himself as he stepped out into the street and headed home, hoping that if he filled his mind up with enough of its echoes, he might even come to believe it was true.


	17. Gonna Get Smoked

In the study, Light poured himself a drink, an important step in his investigative process. He invited Leorio to sit and asked him what he’d like. This was the first test, because Light didn’t trust his daughter. He knew the previous arrangement with Kurapika had soured weeks ago. The sudden appearance of a tall, good-looking kid who Light had never met, but who Neon had sworn was gay, didn’t sit well with him. It was too perfect, too much of a coincidence, and far too close to the departure date for her trip to the Moreau Ball.

Leorio wanted a glass of whiskey, taken neat, and specified the exact brand on the bar he’d prefer. Light felt like a goddamn genius already.

“You know what goes well with Derivas?” asked Light as he uncapped the bottle and poured the drink. “A cigar. You smoke?”

“If you’re offering me a fine cigar to accompany my drink, then of course I do,” said Leorio. Light smiled to himself. It’d cost him a cigar, but he was confident he’d caught on to his daughter’s scheme. He handed Leorio a drink and cut the tip of the cigar for him. Then, he sat down in his towering armchair like a throne across the low table between them.

Light and Leorio spent the next few minutes pulling in air and rotating the cigars between their fingers to light them. Quiet and serious and hardly moving, they partook in the ritual performance of smoking and appreciating the flavor of an expensive cigar while casting furtive glances through the smoke, sizing each other up. For Light, it was only the calm before the storm. He hoped Leorio was enjoying himself. Leorio would be out the door and run off the estate in an hour. Perhaps Light would even let out a few dogs to chase him to the gate. The dogs could use the exercise.

“My daughter can be tricky, Mr. Paladiknight,” said Light. “She believes, erroneously, that because she can easily fool the grunts around here with her girlish little games, she can easily fool me. She forgets that I’m master of this house, and she’s only a child. The wool isn’t pulled over my eyes so easily.”

Leorio nodded. “It’s good for parents to remain vigilant,” he said. “Far too many parents these days want to be friends with their children. It takes discipline to maintain the proper authoritative distance.”

“It’s not all that hard to maintain. Her plans are rarely sophisticated enough evade my suspicion….” Light allowed his voice to trail into the faintest of growls for suspense before adding, “There’s her lie about you, for example.”

“Her lie about me?”

“She told me she should be allowed to attend the Moreau Ball with you. You’re attractive, which is most important to her. You’re strong enough to have become a certified Hunter, and you come with recommendations from Senritsu and Linsen both, which are two things important to me. Also, I’ve been told I can trust Neon will be safe with you escorting her because you’re gay, so you won’t try anything.”

“What part of all that is the lie?”

“You don’t strike me as a gay man.”

“In what sense?”

“What do you mean in what sense? In every sense. The way you carry yourself, what you drink, your overall disposition. You’re far too much of a man’s man. I certainly see and understand why my daughter likes you, and why she’d pick you over a prettyboy like Kurapika, but I’m not going to let her play this trick on me. I know what I see.”

Leorio leaned forward to knock the ash from the tip of his cigar. He took the ashtray up from the table and rested it on the arm of the couch where he was sitting. “What you see is a man,” he said as he sat back. “That’s kinda the point, you know. I’m a man, my lover would be a man, and together we’re both men.”

“Or perhaps my daughter’s just found an unconvincing actor. How can I be sure you’re not just pretending so you can be alone with her away from her bodyguards? Only those invited are permitted to enter the Moreau mansion. This excludes bodyguards. It would be convenient for a man who wished to be alone with her.”

Leorio read over the label of the cigar, his eyes lazily half shut, feigning boredom. “Do I have to convince you?” he asked. He locked his gaze on Light. “How am I supposed to do that? Do you want me to describe in vivid detail all the things I find attractive about men? Or should I just break down for you each and every one of my sexual exploits with men in the past five years? The problem is, I don’t see how any of that would be your business. I don’t care to hear about anyone you’ve slept with, so why would you want to know that about me?”

“Of course I’m not interested in hearing that. I’m not a pervert.”

“Then you’re going to have to take my word for it that I’m interested in men. If it’s any consolation, though, I’m currently in love with a man. It’s unrequited and tragic, I suppose, and also embarrassing. He figured it out himself, and I’m a bit heartbroken over how casually he’s taken it. I’m not that accustomed to liking a man who doesn’t like me back. I never make the first move with men; I’m never the first to confess anything.”

“It’s better for you. You can’t be seen involved with men while dating my daughter, anyway. But on that point, have you ever dated a woman? Do you even know how?”

“The short answer is yes, I have. But also, dating isn’t rocket science. I won’t have any issues pretending to date Neon. I’m not Kurapika.”

“Senritsu said you knew Kurapika.”

“We’re friends.”

“Is Kurapika gay, too?”

“I can’t answer that for him. I don’t even know the answer.”

“But when you say he’s your friend….”

“It’s not a code that means we’ve slept together or anything. I literally mean we’re friends.”

Light bristled at the tone and the implication. He hadn’t actually thought Kurapika and Leorio had ever been together, but for a flash of a second he’d been forced to imagine it. He recoiled from the thought in disgust.

“You don’t need to protect him or get defensive, Mr. Paladiknight,” said Light, even as Light himself was the one getting the most defensive between them. “I have no problem with homosexuals. I know and work with people who are gay, actually. I’ve even attended a gay wedding. It doesn’t change anything about how I see a person.”

“You don’t say.”

“But, though I’m understanding of how you people are, Neon is still a child. I don’t want you answering her questions if she gets too curious about your lifestyle. She’s too young to know those things. She won’t understand.”

“What…wouldn’t she understand? My lifestyle isn’t anything special.”

“You know what I mean. Teenage girls are much too curious for their own good, and lack the capacity to understand what they discover. We need to protect them from asking certain questions.”

“The most she’s going to learn from me is that men who like men are just men. I’ll be as debonair as any prince she’s ever dreamed of. There won’t be any problems. She’s not interested in a boyfriend, anyway. Hasn’t she told you that? She’s just interested in someone less embarrassing to be around than Kurapika.”

“Neon says a lot of what people want to hear. But, things have indeed been going poorly with Kurapika. He isn’t skilled in dating or pretending to be romantic. It’s noble that he’s so honest, I suppose, but he’s been making us look like fools.”

“Don’t worry. In my country we have no qualms about romance. We’re kind of what you people consider the quintessential Romeo or a Casanova, so no-one’s going to blame Neon for dropping stuffy Kurapika for me. And no-one’s going to blame her when she tires of me and no-one ever sees me again after the Moreau Ball.”

Though his investigation appeared to be crumbling, Light broke out into a strange half-smile. The smile became a chuckle. He lifted his glass of whiskey in a mock toast to Leorio, and in that moment the feeling in the room changed. Things appeared darker, less distinct, and the fault wasn’t entirely the building cloud of smoke.

“You do have a point, Mr. Paladiknight,” said Light. He took a pull of his cigar, letting the warm, spicy taste of the smoke fill his mouth and wrap around his tongue before blowing it out in a slow stream. “I do like the point of how _disposable_ you are.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I actually like that a lot. Step out of line, and it’ll become a complete disposal. I don’t give a damn if you’re Kurapika’s friend.”

Leorio remained admirably stalwart in the face of Light’s intimidation tactics. Light didn’t know it, but he was projecting a malicious aura along with his words. Leorio had to work to fight against it in order to keep up his cool appearance.

“I take it by that thinly veiled threat on my life that you approve of me taking Kurapika’s place, then?”

“I don’t approve, no,” said Light, not sure why it bothered him so much that Leorio hadn’t collapsed yet under the pressure he was exerting. Light’s usual combatants began to tremble when he was in his current mood. He imagined that maybe Leorio’s voice was quieter, though there was no way to prove it. The blood rushing past his ears as he clenched his jaw might’ve been drowning it out.

“But,” Light added with some difficulty as the slow realization he might lose this confrontation began to establish itself in the back of his mind, “…I’m considering it. I’m considering all the methods I have at my disposal to make you regret sticking so much as a toe out of line.”

“Well, do I look easy to dispose of if need be?”

“Easy enough.”

“Enough to take your daughter to the ball?”

Light sneered. “I’ll mull it over with this cigar and let you know by the end of the day,” he said. “Until then, enjoy your drink and my company and the fact that you aren’t currently racing across the grounds with a torolobo hound only a single misstep away from tearing your throat open.”

There wasn’t much Leorio could say to this. A torolobo hound was indeed a formidable canine. Light once more pressed the weight of all the malice that his fierce, glinting gaze could impose upon an adversary. He searched for a response on Leorio’s side, and relished the moment Leorio visibly cringed and took a notably deeper breath and longer sip of his drink. At last Light could tell Leorio wasn’t as nonchalant as he wished to appear. He waited for the alcohol rising to the young man’s head and the cigar descending into his gut to turn him inside out with either a full confession or the contents of his stomach. He waited to see him break, like many had before, under the supreme pressure of his infamous, cold scrutiny.

And yet, at that moment, Light felt a gentler emotion flow through him like a cool breeze clearing the smoke from his eyes. It seemed alien, an imposed calm that hadn’t originated within him, but which trickled into his body from some outside source. He suspicion of Leorio dampened. Light was confused by this, but found it hard to feel agitated. He wondered if maybe he hadn’t had enough to eat and the alcohol was taking some unanticipated effect. That was a tad preposterous, however, since Light was a well-hardened drinker and hadn’t even finished half his glass yet. Also, nothing he’d ever drunk in his entire life had literally force him into such a restful state.

Light looked across the table to Leorio, the only other person in room. Leorio was appreciating a painting on the far wall, oblivious to anything that might be happening to Light. Light looked back down to his drink, baffled and yet at ease, and unable to fight back.

* * *

One of the housekeeping staff had led Leorio to the bodyguards’ quarters following his lengthy but largely silent interview. He’d told the staff that he’d needed to see Senritsu. In reality, he’d wanted to sit down in a corner somewhere and throw up. If Light heard about that, however, Leorio would immediately lose the precious few Man Points he’d been begrudgingly granted for being able to hold down two drinks and a terrible cigar.

“You were right,” said Leorio as he dragged himself into the common room, both physically and spiritually weak. “That man has a very firm picture in his mind of what a gay man looks like, and I’m not it. He was set against me from the start. Please, the next time any of you see Neon, let her know her plan was terrible and to confer with us next time before she goes improvising, and then I have to go prove to some old dude that gay doesn’t mean I secretly wish I could be treated as a woman if only I weren't so damn manly.”

Senritsu and Basho looked up from their card game in the corner. Kurapika and Linsen sipped cups of tea on the sofa without a word. It was rare that all four of the most senior bodyguards were off duty at the same time, but Kurapika had fixed the schedule for them. They’d all wanted to see what would happen to Leorio, and to be on hand in the worst-case scenario to fight off a torolobo hound.

“You didn’t play the part?” asked Basho. “It would’ve been easier, as I suggested, if you’d played to his prejudice.”

“No, because that would’ve come off as fake” said Leorio. He sat down heavily in an empty armchair and took a cup from the tray on the table. He filled it with tea and glanced around the limited service. “Is there any sugar?”

Linsen got up, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the cigar that still clung to Leorio like a fog, and went to bring Leorio the pot of sugar from the kitchen. Basho explained that it was nothing personal. Linsen always complained about Light’s cigar, and how it was torture accompanying the man on trips to his club whenever he took lunch in the city. Leorio had come bearing that cancerous cloud with him, and it’d made Linsen remember he was supposed to accompany Light to dinner tomorrow night.

“But he’s letting you date Miss Nostrade, correct? Seeing how he hasn’t thrown you out of the house...” said Linsen. He covered his mouth with his sleeve as he set the sugar down beside Leorio before returning to his seat.

“Yeah, I guess. He only threatened to try to have me killed if I turned out to be lying to him.”

Linsen’s thin-lipped smile exaggerated the skull-like aspect of his face. He’d predicted this while he and Basho had gone over all the possible outcomes of Leorio’s interview. Of all the bodyguards, Linsen had been the only one who hadn’t insisted Leorio put on at least a bit of an act.

“Are you sure he believed you?” asked Basho. Leorio laughed into his cup before gulping it down hot and pouring another. He cleared his throat with a disgusting hacking sound to dislodge the phlegm built up by the cigarettes he’d smoked the night before and the fairly unpleasant brand of cigar on top of them just now.  He apologized for it while filling his next cup of tea with so much sugar it made a gritty sound as he stirred it. Undissolved crystals swayed at the bottom as he took a tentative sip.

“Well, he believed me enough to think it was prudent to warn me that you walk around shirtless wearing a vest, Basho. Seemed worried it might frustrate me to be around you. Your look seems to have made an impression on your boss.”

Basho glanced down at his exposed chest and shrugged, having long since accepted the full, awe-striking impact of his appearance on those around him.

“Anyway, I’m sure he believed me,” continued Leorio. “The best lies have a bit of truth in them. I didn’t get too crazy and make a whole lot up.”

“I’m guessing because he threatened your life, you saw some of the aura he uses when he’s intimidating people?” asked Senritsu. “Sometimes it’s not there, but if he was trying really hard….”

“Yeah, I saw it” said Leorio. He sighed. “You told me it was like a cloud, but I’m pretty sure he was aiming it right at me. It wasn’t enough to just emanate that feel-good Nen you showed me to calm him down. I had to actively defend myself from him, too. He’s a latent Emitter, I’m sure of it. Or a Manipulator. I kinda felt he might be sending the aura out with the smoke, which would explain why he doesn’t always use it.”

“I was betting it was the smoke,” said Linsen. “He always goes for his cigars when he needs to make an impression. He doesn’t know why, but he says his arguments feel better if he’s smoking. He thinks it’s just because it clears his head and adds to his personal air of gravitas.”

“Well, I’m on your side with the smoke. Plus, you’re right his cigars are terrible…uh, Linsen, right?” Leorio looked Linsen in the face and Linsen nodded back in affirmation. “Cool. Got it. But yeah, I feel like I’m going to throw up. I haven’t eaten anything in the past five hours but whiskey and a cigar. Where’s the toilet?”

Linsen pointed to a door at the start of the hall. Leorio thanked him and drank the last of his second cup of tea before making a beeline for it. When he was gone, Linsen turned to Kurapika, who hadn’t spoken once the entire time Leorio’s interview had lasted.

“We’re really not paying him for this?”

“No,” said Kurapika between sips of tea. “He’s just helping out as a friend.”

Linsen nodded slowly as the sound of retching came from behind the thin door to the toilet.

“That’s some friend,” he said. “Some friend indeed.”

Kurapika didn’t answer. 


	18. Can’t Drive It Away

Leorio hadn’t managed to throw up at all, which Basho claimed was a negative, because it meant he’d continue to be slowly poisoned by the nicotine and the alcohol in his system until it passed. Several fruitless minutes wishing for death in the bathroom later, Leorio had returned, weary and unsteady and saying he needed to lie down in a very dark room to recover. He’d then been forced to awkwardly pretend not to notice as everyone else silently debated with their eyes who was going to give up their bed. Kurapika had lost, because, as Linsen pointed out coldly when Kurapika tried to protest, Kurapika had been the one to get Leorio into this mess in the first place.

Senritsu appeared for a little while as Leorio was resting and admonished him for his reckless decision to match an old man drink for drink and heavy cigar on an empty stomach. When she was done, and Leorio had said he was sorry, she’d gone to get her flute and play him a tune based on a remedy for seasickness. Unfortunately, the Nen imbued music primarily affected the sense of balance in the inner ear. It wouldn’t cure the nausea itself, only the dizziness. Leorio sighed and told her to play him a lullaby instead, so he could sleep his illness off. Kurapika arrived to wake him five hours later, apologizing for not bringing him home sooner. 

Kurapika’s shift had taken an hour longer than planned because he’d been given an assignment for tomorrow and had needed to work out the schedule to make sure the grounds were properly patrolled without him. He explained this in a very businesslike manner as he led Leorio through the house and to the garage. Leorio noted as they went that Kurapika gave him a fairly wide berth, equivalent to that he normally gave to strangers. Ever since their last date at the market and the confession Kurapika had wrung out of Leorio, Kurapika had been making a clear effort to hit some sort of reset button in how they related to each other. It hurt Leorio’s feelings to see it, but he understood. Discovering a platonic best friend’s non-platonic attraction to oneself was never easy. It caused one to question every small thing that transpired between them, trying to find signs of where the close friendship had gone too far. This, Leorio told himself bitterly, was exactly why he’d wanted to say nothing and wait for it to pass.

Small talk about work and Leorio’s recovery from his impromptu lunch of whiskey and a cigar had carried Leorio and Kurapika through their first half hour of face-to-face interaction. Tragically, the drive into the city was too long to sustain the light, impersonal matters that were so crucial in maintaining the gargantuan effort of feigning everything was fine. They’d only been in the car ten minutes before Kurapika gave up and asked if Leorio wanted to listen to the radio. He reminded Leorio that the drive was going to be closer to an hour in the current traffic. As for whatever music Leorio wanted to listen to, Kurapika really didn’t mind. Everything was the same to him.

“Have you listened to Black Planet yet at all?” asked Leorio as he turned the dial and frowned at every song that passed. “There’s hardly anything good on the radio.”

“I have.”

“What? How was that not the first thing you told me when I got back? Did it not change your life?”

“Not particularly. I guess it was okay. I don’t listen to music a lot. I can’t compare it to much.”

“Fine, then. I’m syncing my phone with this car. I have a headache, but this is worth it.”

Leorio took out his phone and busied himself with the buttons on the display between them. Kurapika kept his eyes on the road and the traffic. Soon, the now familiar baseline introducing the first track of Black Planet’s masterpiece album began its low, vibrating hum through the small space of the car. Leorio adjusted the balance until the sound seemed to come in from all sides, soaking through the occupants of the cabin like a flood meeting tissue paper. Kurapika gripped the steering wheel tighter, and Leorio turned the volume down to keep it from being distracting. Then, he reclined his seat and relaxed.

“Do you have a favorite song or album?” asked Leorio. He idly flipped through the tracks on his phone, ready to build up a queue of suggestions.

“Anything’s fine.”

“Then I’m going to put the whole discography on shuffle.”

“I haven’t listened to every song yet.”

“Well, then, maybe you’ll hear something new you like.”

Leorio was soon to realize that putting the entire Black Planet discography on shuffle had been a bad plan. He was nodding off, indeed nearly fallen asleep, when he noticed the track had changed to what was quite possibly the sexiest song Black Planet had ever written. This was saying something, too, because the band’s mere existence was intoxicating enough of a drug in and of itself. By the time Leorio noticed the distinctive hook that made the song’s intention more than obvious, it was too late to skip to another track without being awkward about it. Therefore, he selfishly entered defensive mode and pretended to be asleep even as the slow, rumbling energy of the music pulsated through him with the crackle of an electric current. That he had to be in this car, at night, with Kurapika, and listening to this song, seemed like a divine punishment that Leorio couldn’t imagine what he possibly could’ve done to deserve.

In the driver’s seat, Kurapika had gone so quiet it was hard to tell he was breathing. Leorio heard only the movement of Kurapika’s feet as he adjusted their speed to pass another car. Lights flickered by, each one like a gentle tap on the shoulder persuading Leorio to respond, to open his eyes; he wasn’t fooling them. After a minute, Leorio grew confident enough to spy on Kurapika from the corner of a half-closed eye, certain the dark would conceal him as long as he held still. He didn’t expect Kurapika to quickly glance towards him at the same instant.

“What are you staring at?” asked Kurapika sharply, snapping his eyes back towards the road.

“Sorry,” said Leorio. He let his body relax, only then noticing how unnaturally stiff he’d been holding himself. He took a deep breath and reached up to run a hand through his hair. Embarrassed, but knowing it was what they both wanted, he reached over to turn down the volume. “I’m sorry,” he said again, capable of nothing but apology. It was a few minutes before Kurapika spoke again.

“So, did Senritsu tell you why she wants you to take my place at the Moreau Ball?”

“Not in detail,” said Leorio without looking over. “She just said you and Neon weren’t going to make it as a couple until then without giving yourselves away. She told me Neon was throwing drinks in your face in public.”

Kurapika winced at the reminder. “I suppose that was part of it.”

“I guess it’s more than that, though?”

“Yes. She chose you to go as Neon’s date even before she heard about Neon threatening to break up with me.”

“Can’t help that I’m the better man,” said Leorio. He stopped kidding when Kurapika offered an impatient ‘yeah, sure’ and rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, Light ran into Dr. Moreau about a week ago. Dr. Moreau said something about finally seeing ‘Neon in the flesh with her own eyes’, because this year is the first year Neon’s expressed interest in attending the Moreau Ball. She’s been invited before, but she was powerful and capricious enough then to turn it down. She only agreed this year because she wants to see Dr. Moreau’s collection. On top of that, Light really needs her to go so that people see that the Nostrade family is still important enough to attend.”

“Ah, well, that makes sense. I probably could’ve deduced so much myself, given what I know about the family.”

“There’s…another thing. The reason Senritsu spoke to Dr. Moreau personally about inviting me as a guest.”

Leorio knew the tone of voice Kurapika was using. He adjusted his position in the seat so it was clear he couldn’t see Kurapika at all. What Kurapika was about to say wasn’t going to be easy for him, and considering the subject was a world-famous flesh collector, Leorio had an idea what it would be about. 

“Dr. Moreau’s a woman, so ‘seeing Neon with her own eyes’ could be hers, Dr. Moreau’s, literally, but Senritsu believes that Dr. Moreau was hinting that she might’ve acquired the eyes we bought in York Shin.”

“Is that so?” asked Leorio. He kept his gaze trained on his phone and the dark space around his hand. “I see how that might be an important detail.”

“I didn’t tell you earlier,” said Kurapika, the words coming slower now because any mention of the Scarlet Eyes of his people caused him to grit his teeth, “because I didn’t know until yesterday, and also because I didn’t want you to try too hard to win over Light. He can tell when people try too hard. It would’ve impeded the plan.”

“And that’s why you need to go to the Moreau Ball yourself?”

“It’s another reason in addition to the one I already had. You’ll need to keep Neon distracted.”

“Are you going to steal them?”

“I’m going to try to get my hands on them some way. Ideally, I’ll need to meet Dr. Moreau myself, and it’s going to be much easier if I attend the ball as someone interested in flesh collecting. Dr. Moreau is a very difficult person to speak to otherwise.”

“That’s…well,” said Leorio. “Well, I guess now I’m worried I didn’t try hard enough to win Light over.”

“No, you did fine. Really. Light’s already met with me to tell me I’m going with Neon as a guest and not her boyfriend. He thinks it’s a good idea because I can keep an eye on her even if you can’t stomach seeing Dr. Moreau’s collection. He actually doesn’t like Neon’s hobby, you know. It makes him sick.”

“On the subject of things that make that man sick: Did he ask you to corroborate the claim that I’m interested in men? Did you…tell him anything about me?”

“He seemed convinced enough you were. I didn’t have to add to it.”

“Good. I wasn’t sure. I’ve never really had to…I dunno, have that kind of conversation with a stranger before. Or literally anyone. It felt terrible. I hope he avoids me from now on.”

“He will. He made a joke that you probably wished you could go as my date to the ball instead of Neon’s. Said I was more your type. He didn’t say it nicely.”

“Yeah, well, he’s old. Old dudes are like that.”

“I told him otherwise, but he told me he’s convinced you’re not just around to be my friend. I kind of got to see a moment how it felt to be Neon. He used that same voice he uses with her, like he knows better than I do. I’m not Neon, though. I told him to shut up, and he did.”

“You told your boss to shut up?”

“I literally told him I didn’t care to hear his opinion, so he could stop sharing it. But essentially, I told him to shut up.”

“And he did what you told him to?”

Kurapika nodded and checked his mirrors before crossing two lanes to reach his exit.

“Most of what Light Nostrade has is his name at this point,” said Kurapika. A cold arrogance twisted his mouth into a thin, nearly imperceptible sneer. Leorio could tell Kurapika was bragging, though to anyone else he might’ve seemed as dull and emotionless as always. “I’m running the family’s most lucrative operations myself. If I tell him to cease treating me like some kid, he has an incentive to stop.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind what some old guy I don’t know says about me behind my back. It’s worse in my country. Trust me. I’ve heard the worst.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t a big deal. But still, I can’t listen to that, especially when I know it’s me, not you.”

“What do you mean it’s you? It’s not your fault. I agreed to help you with Neon myself.”

“No, I mean that…you know…that I’m the one who’s attracted to you, and you’re just here because I did such a bad job dating Neon.”

Leorio sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. His skin, prickling from the song that had already ended, went numb. His phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor of the car with a loud thud as he failed to catch it against his leg. Though time continued at its regular pace, everything inside him seemed to have slowed down. He finally remembered to exhale.

Leorio’s first conscious reaction once the shock wore off was to smile and shake his head in disbelief. The smile soon fell away and was replaced with a furrowing of his brow as he tried to understand why Kurapika had said something like that so casually, as though he’d thought Leorio would already know.

“I’m sorry,” said Kurapika. It was too dark to make out the change, but Leorio knew Kurapika had turned red. “I didn’t mean to surprise you. It’s just that you took it so well the other day when I told you. I assumed I could be more direct. I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’m pretty sure it’s just a confusion of signals on my side, and that it’ll be a lot easier now that we don’t have to practice dating and stuff. In a way, this is a good example of why I need to learn to control myself, and I guess it’s better I’ve directed these feelings at you, since you’re a relatively safe option. I’m sure you understand this stuff better than I do. But, I’m sorry if I made a mistake mentioning it just now.”

“No, it’s, uh, it’s fine,” said Leorio. He cleared his throat loudly and concentrated on feeling around in the dark for the phone at his feet.

“I won’t mention it again.”

“No, really, it’s okay.”

“You seemed surprised.”

“No, I mean, I was.”

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

“I’m…I’m tired. I actually just remembered, like, this chapter I forgot to review for some exams when I get back home. It was basically the worst possible time to remember it right now. It didn’t really have to do with you.”

“Ah, okay. That was kind of scary, your, uh, reaction like that.”

“It’s terrifying…to suddenly realize…what you don’t know….”

“Exams are important.”

“Yeah.”

Leorio found the phone and searched through it for another track to play. He wanted something obvious, something easy and so popular that not a single word of it meant anything to anyone anymore. He needed a distraction to get him (and Kurapika as well) through the next ten minutes until they arrived to the apartment.

“So you know, you’ll probably only need to be seen with Neon once or twice before we sail for the Moreau Ball,” said Kurapika after parking the car down the street and shutting off the engine. He was back to talking business and employing distance between him and Leorio. “Basho’s working on composing a haiku so she can’t take any clear photos of you and upload them online. It’ll blur you out with Nen every time she tries, because she’ll definitely try. He’s done something like it before, except to make Neon look cute in all of her selfies. It actually works really well. Her selfies are always great.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, check it out,” said Kurapika. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Leorio recognized it as the dating phone he’d seen weeks ago. “Swipe whichever way you want,” he said. “There’s nothing personal.”

Leorio chuckled to himself as went through the photo gallery, because no words could express his amazement. Neon’s selfies were an art in their perfection. Even the silly ones were never unflattering to the point of being truly ugly. They looked natural, down-to-earth, and so easy that it was impossible to feel how fake they were even when he’d known it beforehand. Nen, Leorio reminded himself, was truly a terrifying force.

“That’s impressive. Basho needs to write me a haiku like that.”

“His haikus are always better when they pertain to art in some way. He’s very affected by art. Linsen keeps saying Basho would make better money if he used his haikus for this kind of stuff instead of bodyguarding.”

“Why doesn’t he?”

“Something about the poetry of his life going off kilter if he’s not continually risking it. In short, rolling in money isn’t as fun as getting shot at.”

Leorio handed the phone back and made some comment that Basho was a better Hunter than he was, because Leorio was terrible at having cool reasons for doing stuff. Kurapika claimed Basho just liked to talk big. He reached into the backseat for Leorio’s coat and handed it over as Leorio got out of the car. Leorio said Kurapika should call him whenever they had a plan for how exactly Leorio and Neon were going to break Kurapika’s heart. He shut the door without glancing back and heard the sound of a second door shutting in echo after it. He looked over the car in surprise to see that Kurapika had got out as well.

“I’m staying in the city a few hours because I have an appointment at dawn. Senritsu said I could use her place to wait.”

“An appointment at dawn?” asked Leorio as he shrugged his coat over his shoulders. “That sounds ominous. Is it a duel?”

“No, it’s a fish market,” said Kurapika. “Light had a falling out with the fishmonger that supplies one of his casino’s restaurants. I have to go fix it.”

“Are you his bodyguard or his personal assistant?”

“The loss of his daughter’s Nen broke him so hard I’m basically his babysitter,” said Kurapika. He locked the car and motioned for Leorio start walking. “Let’s get inside quickly. It’s cold out.”

Kurapika took the lead, opening and holding doors for Leorio the whole way upstairs until he was shutting the apartment door politely behind him, apologizing for the intrusion while telling Leorio to just act as if he weren't there. As they entered the main room, Leorio murmured something about the mess of books all over the couch and began to clear them away. Kurapika took a seat on a stool at the kitchen bar and waited. 

It was late, and Kurapika was certainly tired from driving, but to Leorio, this was no excuse for him to sit back and do nothing. Leorio pretended he didn’t know the real reason, which was that Kurapika was still awkwardly insisting on keeping his distance. Instead, Leorio hinted things would go faster, and Kurapika could get some rest sooner, if Kurapika came over and helped. Kurapika didn’t move. He watched Leorio balancing piles of books and papers on the top of the piano and, after a minute, took a deep breath and let it out much too hard for a stifled yawn. Leorio interpreted this as a sign that Kurapika was irritated. He rolled his eyes at Kurapika and said Kurapika had no place getting annoyed when he hadn’t even warned Leorio he’d be over to use the apartment. Leorio wasn’t trying to waste Kurapika’s precious time. He would’ve prepared the couch for company way ahead had he known there’d be any.

“I’m not mad. I’m thinking,” said Kurapika when Leorio was finished grumbling at him. “I said I’d try not to be weird about this, but I sort of am?”

“Weird about what?” asked Leorio gruffly. He’d momentarily forgotten everything Kurapika had said in the car, but only had to look at Kurapika’s face for two seconds for it all to come flooding back. “Oh. Yeah. About that, I guess?”

“Yeah. I sort of want to talk to you about it, but I’m not sure what I can even say. There’s stuff I want to tell you, stuff I really want to make sure you know and understand, but even though I’ve thought of how to say it all for days, right now I can’t even remember everything right. I don’t want to say anything in a way that you’ll take it the wrong way.”

Leorio swallowed heavily and slowed down in his hurry to tidy up the couch.

“You don’t need to say anything. Sometimes—”

“But then I decided that instead of all that, all I really want is to kiss you again.”

Leorio set down the book in his hand. Something snapped inside him like a wire twisted and weakened by the drive and then pulled taunt before it could recover. He crossed the short space between the couch and the kitchen bar in three strides. The stool Kurapika sat on wobbled as Kurapika briefly considered jumping down from it, but he stayed in place. He straightened in time for Leorio to wrap a hand around the side of his head and pull him up into a slow kiss.

“Leorio,” said Kurapika, coming off as slightly cross even though he’d grown short of breath. Leorio could literally feel in his hands the anxiety pulsing through him. He wanted to tell him to calm down, to relax, but he wasn’t really one to talk. His own heart was racing just as fast.

“I figured I’d save you the embarrassment of asking,” said Leorio. A rope tied to his chest was dragging him forward, back towards the bewildered Kurapika clinging to the counter of the kitchen bar behind him for support. Leorio resisted the pull with a considerable effort. Even the meager distance he’d left between them was too far. All he wanted was to kiss Kurapika again, over and over until his heart ached and his head got dizzy, and the feeling of Kurapika’s mouth against his was the only thing he was aware existed.

“You were going to ask me, right?” whispered Leorio. Anything louder would’ve become a raspy murmur and given too much away.

“Y-yeah…I was.”

“Do you feel any better now?”

“No,” said Kurapika flatly. Leorio visibly deflated at this and pushed them further apart so he could look Kurapika in the eye. Kurapika struggled to explain. “No, see, sorry. You startled me. I’m kind of nervous now. I wanted to be the one to kiss you.”

“Oh, right,” said Leorio. He took a step to the side and leaned against the counter at Kurapika’s left. “You have my permission then.”

“Close your eyes first.”

“I always close them. Don’t worry.”

“No, it’s just it’s harder to approach if you’re looking at me.”

“Okay,” said Leorio and obediently shut his eyes. “How I’m standing is fine? Do I need to lean forward?”

Kurapika answered with a warm hand that burned against the back of Leorio’s neck. He wrapped it lightly over Leorio’s nape with a natural ease belying a confidence Leorio knew Kurapika had to be faking.

“Just lower a bit,” said Kurapika. “Here….”

Leorio let the light pressure of Kurapika’s hand guide him down. He felt the brush of Kurapika’s hair against his forehead, tickling his brow, as Kurapika’s other hand came up to rest along the side of his face. For a moment, Kurapika’s thumb traced lightly over the hair on Leorio’s cheek, adding a touch of tenderness to prelude a kiss Leorio had already guessed Kurapika was mostly going through with to test himself. Kurapika trusted no-one, not even his own feelings, and kissing Leorio over a week ago had brought something unfamiliar to light inside of him that he was going to prod and probe thoroughly until he was sure it was real.

Everything inside of Leorio began to conspire how to convince Kurapika that what Kurapika felt was indeed very real. Leorio was aware of all the ways things to could still go wrong, but Kurapika wasn’t. Kurapika believed giving in to his urge to kiss Leorio could explain everything. In truth, it was only going to make things worse, but Leorio didn’t have the will to stop him.

Before their lips even met, Leorio knew this wasn’t going to be like the previous time, when Kurapika had stumbled through a tremulous succession of uncertain kisses in his bed. Even so, Leorio couldn’t help being taken aback by the gentleness and sureness of the kiss. There wasn’t any clear message or motive in it. Kurapika kissed Leorio as though he’d kissed him a hundred times, as though being in love with Leorio was an understood fact, and he was expressing that sentiment to someone he was already certain was his. 

Such an experiment as this was typically limited to a short, easily broken kiss, but Kurapika held Leorio close and allowed it to linger. When they finally parted, Leorio forgot he’d said he’d keep his eyes shut. He and Kurapika looked at each other openly, their faces now so close that Leorio could discern the faint rings around Kurapika’s irises where his contact lenses ended.

Now seemed like a moment in which one of them would have to say something, to shatter the quiet of the kiss with words that, in a considerate attempt to clarify intentions, would only create misunderstandings with their countless interpretations. Over-explanation implied a subtle doubt, either in oneself or the other person. It confused feelings that, for a brief few seconds, weren’t confused at all. This was how Leorio knew that, although now felt like the moment to say something, it wasn’t time to say anything at all. He didn’t know if Kurapika knew that, too. If he let Kurapika speak, Kurapika would analyze the romance out of everything and ruin whatever he might’ve learned from kissing Leorio on his own terms.

So, instead, Leorio slipped his eyes shut, leaned forward, and kissed Kurapika back harder than before. Kurapika nearly toppled right off the stool in alarm.

“What’s going on?” asked Kurapika after pushing Leorio off. “Why…?”

“I like you back,” admitted Leorio. “I guess I want you to know I also like you.”

Kurapika paled. Leorio recognized a subtler version of what had been his own reaction in the car as it played across Kurapika’s face.

“Seriously, Leorio?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

Kurapika wriggled out of Leorio’s grasp until he was standing with the stool between them. He needed to establish a barrier, to give himself space to think. He needed to physically force a pause so that he could process just what was happening.

“Are you sure?” asked Kurapika. His voice clearer now, colder, and showing signs that he was ever so surely beginning to overthink everything. Leorio was let down by the added skepticism in it, as though Kurapika somehow thought he knew better than Leorio. “It’s not just because I told you I liked you the other day, is it? Because I really only started thinking of you in that way after we kissed. That’s what I’ve wanted to tell you. It’s not as if I’ve been like this the entire time I’ve known you. I don’t want you to freak out that I’ve had a crush on you forever. I haven’t. I promise.”

“Are…are you apologizing?” asked Leorio. “You think you did this to me?”

“I feel like I should apologize. This really is probably my fault.”

“It isn’t. I’ve liked you for a while. Since before you liked me, actually.”

Kurapika took a step back, which wasn’t very heartening. “What? How long? Since when? Was it right away? _Was it this whole time?”_

Part of Leorio knew Kurapika was only asking because Kurapika was out of his depth and had never developed feelings for anyone other than some friend he'd mentioned he'd known as a child. Another part of Leorio felt Kurapika was judging him. Kurapika had just made a point of making it very clear that he hadn’t liked Leorio until recently, and yet now he was going to assume Leorio might’ve been secretly pining over him for ages. It wasn't exactly fair of him. However, he wasn't exactly wrong.

Leorio sighed and went to the couch to finish clearing books from it.

“Look, I’ll talk about it in detail if you want,” he promised, “because knowing you, you have questions. Help me move all this stuff out of the way though first. I at least want to sit comfortably.”

“But…so, when you said you weren’t completely lying to Light, you actually meant you…you were….”

“Hey. If I have to clean this room by myself, Kurapika, I’m going straight to bed after and not telling you a damn thing. I might be stupid enough to like you, sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still slam a door in your face. I’m the same exact guy I was fifteen minutes ago who wants you to get off your ass and help me move shit.”

“Fine,” muttered Kurapika and stepped away from the kitchen bar. He approached the couch with an understandable amount of apprehension more befitting his age and limited experience. Leorio considered this a refreshing change of pace. Maybe for once Kurapika wasn’t going to get insufferable and blatantly pretend to have a grip on something they both knew Kurapika was inadequately equipped to handle.

“Think about what you want to know as we’re moving all this stuff, and maybe don’t frame your questions like you’re accusing me, okay?” asked Leorio. “This is hard enough without getting blamed for the shit I can’t control that happens in my brain. I’m not blaming you for how you feel.”

“Okay,” said Kurapika quietly, taking up a few books that had fallen to the floor. “And thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Kurapika. We might just regret this. This might be our stupidest decision ever.”

For the first time that day, and perhaps for the first time since he’d confessed his feelings to Leorio, Kurapika smiled. Leorio looked at him and, after a pause, smiled reassuringly in return.

“Okay, yeah, but it is kind of great to know you like me back, I guess…for now,” said Leorio. “Terrible, too, but also great.”

“Terrible but also great sounds right,” said Kurapika in a bemused echo. “Maybe mostly terrible.”

“Hey, we don’t know that yet.”

“Maybe we do.”

“Shut up and put some books away already.”


	19. Hearts and Brains Reprisal

_[5 September, after 1am, in an airship above the Gordeau Desert]_

“Was it safe to be in that state so long, Kurapika? You’re not looking great right now.”

“I’m…a little tired, Leorio. But it’s nothing. I haven’t had much rest.”

“Sit, then. You look faint. Your Nen’s been the only thing keeping you standing so far, I’m sure of it.”

“My resolve has been the only thing keeping me standing. My Nen reflects my resolve, and so it…so it…”

“Leorio, catch him!”

“Already on it, Senritsu.”

“I’m only just….”

“You only just have a fever. You’re going to sit down and chill out. Killua says he’s got the controls of the dirigible. Apparently he can fly a dirigible if there’s a failure in the programed course. Apparently that’s a thing baby assassins can do. So, I’m going to take you someplace you can sit right now, and you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.”

“By…dirigible…do you mean the airship?”

“We call them dirigibili in my country. Why are you wasting your breath on stupid questions? Are you delirious or something? Hey, Senritsu, get my briefcase from my seat. I’m going to sit him down on the bench by the window. How do you feel, Kurapika? Any pain? You’re a tad warm to the touch. Hey, open your eyes. You still with us? If you can’t sit up, you can lie down here. I can make room.”

“Are you really taking my pulse? I’m not that bad, just tired. And warm. Mostly tired. Don’t worry so much. Please don’t exaggerate this.”

“Kurapika, you just collapsed. I’m not going to be around to spot you every step you take until we get you home. Don’t try to get up right now. Take this thermometer.”

“Leorio, please.”

“Don’t talk with the thermometer in your mouth.”

“Hm.”

“Besides the low fever, this mostly looks like a stress response. You’ve gone too far. Didn’t the person who taught you Nen tell you that it’s, I dunno, _life energy_ , and that if you use it all up _that’s bad?_. And who even knows what keeping your eyes red so long is doing to you anyway. What if you'd used up all your energy and hurt yourself?"

“If I’d used up all my energy, I’d already be dead.”

“Don’t say a word about dying. I’m done with people talking about dying for now. You need to rest. Do you want to lie down? I can make room here for you to lie down. It should be fifteen more minutes until we land. If you can’t stand when we arrive, I’ll carry you.”

“Don’t carry me anywhere. You'll trip and drop me.”

“Then I’ll get Gon to carry you. He’s proven he can. He and Killua would appreciate the exercise. I just need to tell them it’s training, and they’ll make it a game who can do the most reps bench pressing your unconscious body.”

“Leorio, that would embarrass me more.”

“Relax, I’m joking, okay? Lie down, rest, and if you fall asleep, I’ll make sure to wake you up before we get off the airship. Here, you can even use my coat as a pillow. There you go.”

“Leorio, you….”

“It’s nothing. I don’t care if the coat’s wrinkled.”

“You look more like a doctor without your coat.”

“Heh. I wish that were all it took. Senritsu, do you know any songs or something that might help? I don’t think I have medicine for what Kurapika has.”

“I can try a few pieces.”

“Good. Kurapika? Hey, Kurapika? Wait. Did you seriously just fall asleep that fast? Are you kidding me? Senritsu, do you think this maybe might be a bad thing? He’s totally out.”

“I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell with Nen.”

“Shit, that’s right. I guess we’ll tell Gon and Killua to carry him if he doesn’t wake up. I have to bring the car around by myself now.”

“I’m worried about taking him back to the Nostrade’s suite while he’s in this condition. What if the Phantom Troupe tries to find him there? They’ve already killed our senior security staff. I don’t think any of us left can fight them.”

“I wasn’t going to let you take him anywhere. I’m not letting him out of my sight until he recovers and everything has had a chance to quiet down. I don’t plan on repeating what just happened tonight anytime soon. I’m a little tired of everyone risking their lives right now.”

“…I’m tired of it, too. I’m tired of all of this.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

“I’ll help you hide and look after him.”

“Thank you.”

“You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

“I care about all my friends. Now that we’ve got Gon and Killua back, this guy is my immediate concern. Now it’s time for us to take care of him. It’s not over until he’s safe and well.”

“Aren’t you worried?”

“I’m not going to worry yet. It’s not time to worry yet. I’m going to let him rest. I’m hoping that that's what’s best for him right now. I don’t know enough about Nen and wellness to know if this is the right choice. I just have to hope my instincts are correct.”

“I hope they are, too. I really hope so.”

* * *

_[5 September, morning, improvised bedroom in a run-down building in York Shin]_

The pale light of late morning leaked in through the bent and uneven slats of the dusty sets of blinds that covered the windows with precious little more than the well-intentioned illusion of privacy. Leorio would’ve preferred a dimmer, more restful room for his patient, but the run-down building they were hiding out in didn’t afford the luxury of total darkness. Kurapika wasn’t complaining, however. Kurapika wasn’t doing much at all.

“Eye not opening for shit is a 1. He’s made a few sounds but not real words, so 2? Unless his native language is inarticulate sounds? If you poke him with a stick, he’ll shift a little away, so a 4, maybe. But shit. That’s still only 7. An 8 if the language thing holds. So…not good. But hey, also not the worse end of bad. So I guess that’s something.”

“What are you muttering, Leorio? I step out of the room for ten minutes, and you’re already talking to yourself?” asked Zepile. He spoke with forced ease as he swept into the room with Gon and Killua at either side. All three sets of arms were laden with bottles of whichever convenience store drinks promised to be the most restorative. There was an overwhelming amount of flavored green tea in liters. They’d also brought basic first aide supplies, which Leorio accepted and immediately put to use in preparing a fresh compress.

“If it gets to forty-eight hours, we’ll need a real doctor. I seriously doubt I can handle this. He can’t take medicine or even eat while unconscious. He might actually be in a coma.”

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet, Leorio, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Leorio grumbled instead of answering Zepile, checking the compress wasn’t too cold or still dripping before replacing the one resting on Kurapika’s forehead. Kurapika made a faint sound, but nothing that resembled a word in any language Leorio had ever heard. Gon and Killua came close to have a look while Zepile placed liters of water within Leorio’s reach along the wall. He took the rest of the drinks to the other room, where they had a cooler with ice.

“I know you can’t see it, but his aura’s still pretty faint,” said Killua as he knelt down at Kurapika’s side. “I wonder how long it takes to recover from this kind of overexertion?”

“It was really dangerous to use his power for so long without a break,” said Gon. He leaned in to listen to Kurapika’s chest, but soon sat back with a shrug. “The moment we saw him, I could tell he was reaching his limit. I’m glad he didn’t have to fight in the end. Who knows how much he’d have had left for a fight?”

“He wouldn’t have been alone. We were all ready to fight,” said Leorio. He rinsed and wrung out the towel of the previous compress with an extra tight squeeze that pattered heavily into the shallow basin at his side. “Let’s be glad it didn’t come to that.”

“He’s lucky he has you and us to take care of him,” said Gon. “Are you hungry, Leorio? We have some snacks. When are you going to leave this room and have breakfast?”

“Maybe later.”

“Are you sure?”

“I said later.”

“Quit it, Gon. He’s not going anywhere,” said Killua. Leorio avoided meeting either boy’s eye. “But it’s good for us. We can get ready for the auctions with Zepile. Leorio’s got everything covered. Nothing will happen to Kurapika with Leorio looking after him.”

“You might not want to go anywhere, but at least take a break when Senritsu gets back,” said Gon. He and Killua stood to leave. “You can’t take good care of Kurapika if you don’t take good care of yourself. We’ll all help out, so you don’t need to work too hard, okay? Kurapika has all of us looking out for him. He’s our friend, so we’ll help him no matter what.”

“I’ll let you know if I need anything else,” said Leorio with a small smile. “Maybe bring me some coffee for now. I’ll let you know the second there’s a change.”

“We’re on it,” said Killua. He pulled Gon along with him, and they left the room.

Alone now, Leorio resumed his watch. He placed a hand under the blanket and checked that it wasn’t too damp with sweat. The fever was still fairly low, but he didn’t want to risk a sudden spike that might cause Kurapika to overheat as he slept. So far, everything seemed as comfortable as he could make it. He wondered if Kurapika could hear them speaking over him. He wondered if there was any pain. With a sigh, he sat back once more. He longed to know more about Nen, although it’d been his own choice to delay studying it while preparing for his entrance exams. Now that the exams were over, he only felt the sting of the gap in his knowledge and what he considered his subsequent inability to truly understand what was happening to his suffering friend.

“Sleep as long as you need, Kurapika,” said Leorio, trying to sound casual but keeping his voice down to almost a whisper, “but also, try to be mindful of the people who have to look after you, okay? Don’t test our patience. You’re no Sleeping Beauty, you know that? You haven’t showered, and you’ve got some drool in the corners of your mouth. It’s not attractive. No prince or princess is going to brave the One Hundred Year Wood of Horrors to kiss a sloppy sleeper like you. So like, you’re going to have to wake up eventually on your own. Just something to think about in case you haven’t decided how long you want to milk our sympathy for.”

Leorio imagined Kurapika took a deeper breath. He decided this merited another point on the scale to assess his consciousness. At the same time, he told himself to abandon measuring something like that anyway, because he was dealing with Nen, and the effect of Nen on the body wasn’t part of any curriculum he was ever going to see while studying conventional medicine. 

Leorio wished fruitlessly for this case to be exactly what it looked like, nothing more. Kurapika was merely sleeping, but with an abnormal intensity imposed on him by his dwindling aura. It was a deep and restful sleep that would result in a spiritual recovery as much as a physical one by the time Kurapika awoke. Leorio had to trust that. He also needed to keep in mind that the methods and medicine he knew didn’t apply here. He had to believe instead in the resolve of Kurapika’s Nen keeping Kurapika alive.

“At least wake up before we need to admit you someplace just to make sure you’re fed,” said Leorio. “Wake up before we run out of options, and I have a real reason to worry, okay?”

There was silence. Though at Kurapika’s side and able to hear the muffled voices of his friends in the other room, Leorio felt isolated from the entire world. It was a familiar feeling: the sick room, the bedside, a forced optimism undercut by the whisper of labored breathing from an unresponsive patient in the bed who seemed to sleep, but in reality waged a war within himself. There was nothing for it but to wait. And yet, what was he waiting on? Last time he’d known exactly what was coming at the end. This time….

Leorio scolded himself for getting carried away. No point revisiting the worse case scenario from the days of another life. Twelve hours hadn’t even passed yet. Kurapika wasn’t in any danger. Certainly not yet. Not while Leorio was looking after him. Never, so long as there was anything Leorio could do.

* * *

_[6 September, after 2am]_

“Good morning, Killua.”

“I guess 2am is technically morning. Oh wait. _Are you making more coffee, Gon?_ What the hell? Has Leorio slept?”

“I don’t think he’s going to.”

“He’s going to be as bad off as Kurapika at this rate.”

“I wonder if Kurapika’ll wake up this week? What do you think?”

“I’d start to worry he’ll die of starvation if a whole week passes. We can’t hide him forever. He’ll need to be in the hospital if this lasts.”

“Yeah. Hey, I'm wondering.... You’ve seen a lot of people die, right, Killua?”

“Kurapika’s not dying.”

“I know; he’s recovering. That’s the opposite of dying. I’m not asking for him. I was thinking about Leorio.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well I guess I’ve seen a lot of people die. More than you have for sure.”

“Up close?”

“Real close.”

“What’s that like?”

“I dunno. They just aren’t alive anymore. It’s real quick. I’m a professional, you know.”

“Have you seen someone die slowly?”

“You mean like a slow-acting poison? In that case, they get real sick, and it’s gross, but they die the same.”

“Has anyone you cared about ever died?”

“Nope. I haven’t cared about anyone.”

“Me neither. I mean, I care about people, but none of them died.”

“Then I guess we’re lucky. But hey, don’t say that stuff around Leorio when we go back, Gon. He’s too sensitive about people dying. Also, Kurapika isn’t even dying, and Leorio can tell. He’s just got a fever.”

“Yeah, I believe Kurapika will be okay. Like Leorio said, Kurapika just needs to rest. But for some reason, I keep wondering what it’d be like if someone who was my friend died. Someday that will probably happen, you know?”

“Sure. But why would you want to think about something like that? If you worry about depressing stuff like that too much, then when it finally happens, you'll feel like it’s your fault.”

“I’m not worrying about it. I’m just curious.”

“...Hm. When your friend dies and there’s nothing you can do about it, you feel powerless. It’s like standing at the shore of a still lake, watching a person drown just out of reach, and neither you nor anyone else can swim. People who could save them aren’t there. Those who might help won’t get there in time. You can only watch your friend struggle, waiting for them to die and knowing your last memory of them will be this one.”

“Shit, Leorio, we thought you were with Kurapika.”

“I had to take a piss.”

“I see. Well. You don’t have to answer that question. Gon’s just thinking out loud; right, Gon?”

“Yeah! Just…wondering stuff. You don’t have to share.”

“Yeah, you look really tired. You should sleep. Senritsu’s with Kurapika, and Zepile’s around to help. You should take a break and relax.”

“I’m not done. You see, Gon, although it hurts to watch someone die a lingering death, at the same time it’s the most tedious thing you will ever do. You want it to stop, to end, but you also don’t, and that makes you really tired. You want to go away, to forget about it, to become someone else who never knew your friend. At the same time, you know you can’t leave. You feel like…like if you don’t catch their final gasp of air, the last flail of an arm, then that means you’ll have somehow betrayed them in their last moments. They won’t know you’re there, they won’t even say a word to you, but if you aren’t beside them the second they pass on, you’ll have wasted and lost the very last moment you ever could’ve been with them before they’re gone forever. That’s what it’s like.”

“…Go take a nap, Leorio.”

“Yeah, old man, I’m pulling back your coffee. You’ve had enough.”

“Shut up and refill this mug plus this other thermos.”

“Not a damn chance, you shou—”

“Stop, Killua. Here, Leorio. Give me the mug first. You can stay up if you want. If it makes you feel better. Hand me the thermos next.”

* * *

_[6 September, early morning]_

For the first half a day and most of the following night, Leorio hadn’t said much to Senritsu. They’d only recently met, and the majority of their closest interactions had been contained to the rush of concocting a plan to capture the leader of the Phantom Troupe, and then coping with the fallout of that plan as it'd toed the line of failure. As an accomplice, Senritsu had left Leorio wanting for nothing. As a companion at Kurapika’s side while he recovered, however, she left him ruminating too long on what to say and feeling uncomfortable. She felt like a trusted friend, a true ally, and yet she was also a complete stranger. Leorio couldn’t stand the silence between them.

“Can you pick up any change in his condition?”

“You’ll be the first person I tell when I do.”

Leorio groaned and gave up resisting the itch in his hand to reach out and check the compress he’d already adjusted a moment ago. Outside it was still dark. Gon and Killua were sleeping or else training very quietly. Zepile was out early getting work done. Senritsu and Leorio were the only ones up the entire night, and both of them were struggling.

“He’ll be fine,” said Leorio. “His body is just forcing him to rest because he’s been running himself too hard. The Scarlet Eyes are a momentary condition, usually, based on a surge of strong emotion. It’s clearly not meant to be sustained for longer than several minutes, and Kurapika was in and out of that state for varying amounts of time over the course of days. Those last hours were especially taxing. I’m sure once he’s recovered and recharged, he’ll be fine. He’s a hard guy to keep down. He’s still got a lot left to do. This isn’t the end.”

“You don’t have to reassure me, Leorio. I know all that. You’ve said it already.”

“I just don’t want you to worry needlessly.”

“I think you’re worrying enough for the both of us.”

“No, I’m fine. I believe everything’s going to be fine. Why would I worry? The fever is low, his heart rate is within an acceptable range, and it’s not like he’s struggling to draw breath. Every few hours the fever and the heart rate go up, but I like to think he’d just dreaming about all those hours we spent running during the Hunter Exam. It makes me a little faint to look back on as well. That’s totally understandable.”

Senritsu smiled, kind and placating. “I get what you’re trying to do,” she said, “but I can tell you’re lying.”

“Ah, well…there’s _a_ truth in it,” mumbled Leorio. “Lies are always more convincing with some truth.”

“It is truth, or do you build lies around the things you want to believe?”

“Ha,” said Leorio, feigning an injured wince. He was rewarded with another smile, which made him feel better. It might actually be worth it to talk to Senritsu if she found him funny instead of obnoxious. “Well, you might think you’re clever, but you’re actually not the first person to call me out for acting somewhat disingenuous when I meet new people.”

“So you’ve always been this obvious?”

“No. There was only one other person. Or well, only one other person who bothered to say anything.”

“Only one? Who?”

Leorio nudged the edge of the futon with his foot.

“This guy. He’s the one who tends to prefer the word ‘disingenuous’ to ‘lying’, too. It’s not a common word to use in conversation. That’s why it’s stuck with me, I guess.”

“I’m not surprised. What lie did he catch you in?”

“None at first. It was Gon that caught me, only Gon never called me out. When I first met those guys, I put on an act of being this selfish, greedy guy who said a whole lot of shit, but Gon didn’t fall for it. Kurapika did, though, because I sort of antagonized him. I don’t even know what about him pissed me off so much and made me such a jerk to him in particular. He just…gets this look on his face when he gets all self-righteous that you can’t help but want to punch off.”

Senritsu laughed knowingly, and Leorio was able to forget the weight of his anxiety for a moment.

“I’ve seen that look,” said Senritsu. “I know exactly what you mean, though I wouldn’t punch someone for that sort of thing. When we first met, he wouldn’t tell us his name or even talk to us much. Basho and Baise basically said what you just did after we parted ways with him. On the first day of the job, the head bodyguard yelled at him and called him an idiot. Basho and Baise kept their outward composure, but inside their hearts danced with such gleeful vindication, like kids in school when the teacher’s pet gets in trouble. I think they went for drinks after their first shift was over to celebrate.”

“Kurapika is a guy with many talents. He’s stellar at making a bad impression.”

“He really is.”

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“About you or Kurapika?”

“Me and Kurapika.”

“Sure.”

“I never actually wanted to be friends with the guy.”

“What? You care so much about him. I can hear it in your heart. You’re so worried about his condition.”

Leorio cringed in embarrassment over how direct Senritsu was. “Yeah, well, I do now,” he said defensively. “But when he first told us that his primary objective was to get revenge on the goddamn Phantom Troupe…. Well, see, it was never, ever my intention to become a Blacklist Hunter, I can promise you that, but I still remember the precise moment I thought to myself ‘nope, you couldn’t pay me a hundred billion jenny to do that job’. It was right after I read an article about the Phantom Troupe. So, when we met and he said that those people were who he was after, I thought he was the stupidest person I’d ever met.”

“I understand. That’s probably one of the reasons why he doesn’t normally tell people about it. It ruins all his credibility.”

“It sure as hell does. I spent days trying to convince myself we were just getting along for convenience because of Gon. Kurapika, meanwhile, believed in me enough that he knew me from a fucking kiriko because he was so convinced I wouldn’t abandon an injured person I was supposed to be caring for. And I just… _I have no idea_ where he got that from based on his previous experience with me.”

“It’s because you talk a lot.”

“What?”

“When you talk too much too readily, people read more of you than you of them. If you’re charismatic as well, it makes people feel closer to you than they are, because it’s a one-sided outflow of information. Everyone feels like they know you, and you get confused and wonder why they’ve got so familiar so fast.”

“I admit I might’ve got bored in the woods and talked a bit to pass the time….”

“ _Just_ a bit.”

“Okay, a bit of a lot. But anyway, it wasn’t long after we met when Kurapika called me out for lying or being disingenuous or however he put it the first time. I don’t know what it was—maybe you’re right and I talk too much or whatever—but he claimed to see something better in me that contradicted the kind of guy I was acting like. So, I told him the truth and kind of dialed back on the obnoxiousness. Then, he saved my ass and stuck it out with me for like five days in the woods looking for _my target_ in the literal _hunting test_ of the Hunter Exam. I’m not sure why, and I found it kind of hard to believe his excuse about teamwork. But, I guess with Gon running off all the time with Killua, it just sort happened that we became friends in spite of my better judgment. Nearly getting killed together a few times probably helped seal the deal. He’s one of the most important people in my life now, and it’s…so stupid. I know so much better than this, and yet here we are. I’ve hardly left this room in nineteen hours, and I have no intention of leaving it until he wakes up and recovers.”

There was a happy smile on Senritsu’s face, and she’d shut her eyes. Leorio was relieved he hadn’t looked over to her while speaking, or the change in her would’ve made him nervous. Her finger traced the air lightly just above the floor where she sat, like she was directing a tiny orchestra of the brick dusk and debris that covered all of the room except for the area immediately around Kurapika’s bed.

“It’s almost strange, how you describe him,” said Senritsu, still keeping time in the air as she spoke. “I’ve only really seen him as he’s been these past few days during the auctions. Tense. Cold. Full of rage. I never even saw his genuine smile until Gon and Killua were on the airship.”

“Really? He smiles all the time. It’s not like he’s super laid back or cheerful, but it’s not even all that hard to get him to laugh. Trust me. I’ve spent literal days alone with the guy. Everything you say gets progressively worse and more ridiculous after you’ve spent an entire day in the company of only one other person.”

“And yet, I can’t even picture him laughing,” said Senritsu. “How extraordinary. It’s almost like we don’t even know the same person.” Her finger finally stopped and she opened her eyes. Her expression was tired and sad now, losing the quiet enjoyment of a moment before. “I wonder what your version of Kurapika is like. I wonder if his heart beats with the same haunting fury.”

“I dunno,” said Leorio. “Maybe your version of Kurapika is more accurate. I haven’t seen the guy in half a year. A lot can change in that time. He’s a Blacklist Hunter now, he’s mastered Nen, and he’s right inside the criminal underworld. All of that can alter a person. But…he still smiled when we finally met up. He was tired, but he didn’t seem all that different. Maybe when he wakes up we’ll see how he really is, when he sees the two of us and has to decide how he’s going to act.”

“I think your Kurapika is more accurate. He lets he guard down around you. He trusts you. And…I think it makes him nervous. I noticed it every time you called. I didn’t know it was you right away, but I heard the same anxious rush of emotion when he was around you that I heard when he chose to ignore certain phone calls. He gets like that with all three of you, really, but he avoids you more I think because you’re near his age, so he’s more intimidated by you. When people are acting recklessly, they tend to avoid the people who know how to talk sense to them, especially the ones they’re most inclined to listen to.”

“Huh. Do we really make him feel that bad, though? I understand he might see friends as a burden now. Attachments can be a huge liability. He probably just thinks we’re getting in his way.”

“I can’t say what he thinks, but I can tell you his heart was happy, really happy, the moment Killua and Gon were safe with us. Don’t worry that he felt bad. The only thing he was feeling at that moment was relief and joy without regret. When you were at his side caring for him, even though he argued with you, he was in the most peaceful state I’d ever heard from him. He trusted he was okay with you around, with all of his friends safe.”

“You got all that from his heart?”

“I was listening closely. It was such a dramatic change from how his heart has always sounded.”

“I didn’t know an organ that pumps blood throughout the body had so much to say.”

“Well, it’s not literally the heart that says anything. The change in a person’s heartbeat is what gets my attention, and what I hear and see after that confirms what their true emotions are. Sometimes we ignore what we see in a person based on what we hear them say. And sometimes we judge things solely on how they appear to us without really listening to the reason or the apology or the truth that lies beneath the lie we prefer. We’re always betraying our own perceptions, always deceiving or being deceived. But, hearing the heart beating beneath it all makes most things impossible to misconstrue.”

“So you can’t be lied to, can you?”

“Not if the person giving the lie is aware they’re lying.”

“What if they lie to themselves? Has a heart ever told you someone’s secret? Something not even the person knew?”

“No. If I can hear it, they know it. Even if they repress it, they still know. Unless they forget it entirely, there’s always a sign. People know themselves too well. Indeed, we know ourselves much better than we even want to most of the time.”

“That’s…a miserable thought,” said Leorio. He turned to Senritsu and lowered his glasses so he could look her in the eye. “Do me the favor of not sharing with me everything you know about how I feel. Even if I’m lying to you, let me have that lie. You can’t read my mind, and my heart is only half the story. You don’t know why I choose to believe the things I do, and why I choose to lie about other things. The rudimentary explanation I can give you is that I’m a sentimental guy. I’m not scared of my emotions, but I know they’ll carry me away if I let them. So, I’d like you to keep whatever my heart says between you and it. Like you said: If you can hear something hidden in me, chances are I already know it’s there. It isn’t hidden from me more as it’s hidden inside me, away from everyone else.”

“I can respect that. Don't worry. But, your heart…can I ask one thing, and then I’ll never bring it up again?”

“Sure. It’s just us here. Us and the sleeping beauty, anyway. I guess it can’t hurt.”

“Really? I don’t know many men who would talk about their heart so openly.”

“My culture is probably just more generous with the amount of feelings men are allowed to have. Go for it. Ask me.”

“I know you love your friends. They make your heart happy when you’re with them. It’s such a pleasant sound, even throughout the distressing events that have caused you so much worry in the short time we’ve known each other. I hear it there, even when you’re scared, that there’s a peacefulness which doesn’t doubt for a moment that everything will be okay. You trust your friends and their decisions, and that belief in them doesn’t waver.”

“And what’s your question about that?”

“You love your friends, but aren’t you at least a little _in love_ with Kurapika?”

The first place Leorio’s eyes went was to the door to make sure it was shut. He was stunned Senritsu had blurted something out like that so openly. He didn’t even have an answer for her.

“Don’t worry. Everyone’s asleep. I would’ve heard if anyone besides you reacted to my question.”

“I suppose so, but…. But isn’t it weird to talk about this with Kurapika right here, though?”

“He’s not listening.”

“I can’t prove that. Only you know that. You might be lying.”

“I’m not tricking you. I care about Kurapika, and how you feel about him is something that, I don’t know, maybe if he knew it, he’d find some other purpose.”

“No, telling him crazy stuff like that would just feel like a betrayal. I’ve had friends in love with me before, and all that happens is their feelings become a burden on me, and I’m forced to shut them out.”

“But if he were in love with someone….”

“The someone wouldn’t be me. Enough.”

“But how you say he was before, combined with how he is when he’s around you, when he’s reminded of you, I even remember there was a time on our trip to York Shin that someone mentioned what I now know was your country, and he—”

“ _I don’t want to know that_ ,” snapped Leorio loud enough to make it perfectly clear to Senritsu and half the neighboring apartments how much he didn’t want to know. He leapt to his feet and made for the door, but then remembered halfway that he had no place to go, because the only place he had to be was in this room.

“I’m sorry. I’m tired. The coffee and the long hours make me agitated,” said Leorio, coming back and taking his seat on the floor again. “I won’t answer your question. This is one of those things I don’t want to think about. This is one of those things I’d like you to keep to yourself.”

“Why are you so against it? It could work.”

“Because I have everything I need right now. I’m content. I’m the kind of guy who anchors himself to a few people, and as long as I have them, I can go anywhere and accomplish anything. I only need a few secure attachments, and that gives me the confidence to set out and do what needs to get done, to endure long hours alone, to survive the lowest moments along the way. They are my cardinal points to keep me on track. I’m not going to risk it. I’m not going to give up a friendship for something as selfish and short-sighted as _that_.”

“Selfish and short-sighted? Do you really think so little of love?”

“The sort you’re talking about, yes.”

“Leorio….”

“What?”

“You’re lying.”

“Then why did you even ask?”

“Because it tells me what you want to believe.”

Leorio said nothing. He reached out to rotate the compress on Kurapika’s forehead. A few damp strands of long hair fell over Kurapika’s eyes, and Leorio brushed them back softly.

“Why does he wear his hair so long?” asked Leorio. “Doesn’t that seem counterproductive to you for a bodyguard? How’s he supposed to see anything clearly?”

“Maybe he’s trying to conceal his face.”

“That has to be it, because it certainly doesn’t look cool. A cooler choice would be glasses. Plus, he’d look as smart as he is, instead of some doe-eyed kid with an attitude that needs adjusting.”

“Cool like you with your tiny glasses?”

“You’ve caught me. These teashades are much cooler than my actual face. Though, come to think of it, I don’t think Kurapika has the face shape to pull off glasses. They’ll just make his face wider, kinda round and fat looking. Or, I could be wrong and maybe they’ll give his face more definition and make him look more mature. Perhaps I should test it out, but it’d be embarrassing if he woke up now while I was trying to see how he looks with mine on.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Maybe…” said Leorio with a thoughtful air. “Maybe later I’ll tell Gon and Killua, and then with their childish curiosity, they’ll want to test it out. If Kurapika wakes up then, we can just blame the kids. Kids can be very useful like that. They’d definitely go along with my plan.”

“Are you seriously considering this? I actually can’t tell anymore.”

“Of course I am,” Leorio lied. He didn’t think for a second Senritsu believed him, not just because she was a human lie detector, but also because she was laughing at the absolute nonsense of what he was saying. “This gives me something to look forward to today at any rate. Also, it’s great, because now I’m hoping Kurapika _won’t_ wake up for a few hours. It takes a special kind of brilliant to turn a situation around like that. I amaze even myself.”

“I’m beginning to think your idea of Kurapika as someone who smiles and laughs easily has more to do with you than him,” said Senritsu with total sincerity.

“It has nothing to do with me. I’m not that funny. Killua only laughs at misfortune or around Gon, and Gon just laughs at everything, so his laughter doesn’t count for anything. Kurapika, meanwhile, feels bad for me and laughs because he’s such a kind person. It’s a pity laugh.”

“No, it’s not. He knows you. You play stupid to make people feel better, and it works on him. He lets you and your friends make him feel better. That’s why he cares so much about you.”

The grin on Leorio’s face turned bitter. 

“The problem is he’s not ready to feel better.”

“That’s sadly true.”

“You with your flute and me with my stupidity. And together, we’re still some kind of useless, right? Temporary respites, never a cure. I’m not going to fall in love with someone like that. It’s enough that we’re friends. I’ve allowed him enough. He’s not getting any more than that. And that’s the answer to the question you asked me a moment ago. Am I lying?”

“You aren’t.”

“All right then. Now, to the important questions: Should I try to put my glasses on Kurapika now, or should I wait for Gon and Killua to wake up? I can always take a picture with my phone for them, but I also kinda feel like it’s something they’d want to be here for. What do you think? This is very important.”

“I think you’re going to wait for Gon and Killua. You’re too good a friend to let them miss out.”

“True. Very true.”

* * *

_[6 September, after half past 4pm]_

“What time is it?”

“Half past four. You’ve been asleep this time for just an hour. Your fever’s broken at last, but you still shouldn’t push yourself too much.”

“Where’s Senritsu?”

“She’s bringing your belongings over now that you’re awake. We didn’t have it here in case…in case it was risky. We still aren’t sure how they tracked down your coworker that ran.”

“Gon and Killua?”

“With Zepile. They’ve got an auction to attend. You should’ve seen how well Gon cleans up in a suit. I was so proud.”

“Heh. You’re still stuck here, though?”

“Someone had to keep an eye on you.”

“But you’ve been here the entire time, haven’t you? I mean, the entire time I’ve been asleep. Since yesterday night.”

“Hey, Gon _did_ say there’s no safer place for me to be than with you, right?”

“You know he only meant while we were planning to kidnap Pakunoda.”

“Oh well, oops, someone should’ve told me that sooner. Now I feel stupid.”

Kurapika let out a quiet snort of laughter and shook his head sleepily. The compress slipped from his forehead, and he reached up to remove it before sitting up. Leorio made a sound of disapproval, but Kurapika ignored him and handed the compress over. Leorio accepted it and passed Kurapika a bottle of water.

“No, but seriously Leorio, you look terrible,” said Kurapika after drinking half the bottle in one go. “I’m going to get up now. I want to clean up and change clothes before everyone else gets back. You go get some sleep.”

“Your other clothes aren’t here yet.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“It’s fine. You’re a little disoriented from sleeping so long. Senritsu should be back soon, and I promise I’ll go take a nap once she’s here, don’t worry. Meanwhile, you should drink plenty of fluids and maybe have something simple to eat. You’ve been sleeping over a day and a half with nothing, and I’m not going to spot you in case you swoon in the bath from hunger, sorry. You should stay in bed a little longer.”

“Okay, but if I’m trapped in bed on your orders, it’s your job to entertain me. Tell about what Gon and Killua are buying. I didn’t talk about it with them yet, but I guess you’ve been helping them? They mentioned some guy they met? Sepail?”

“Zepile. Yeah. He’s a cool guy and a real expert about auctions and antiques. He’s been helping us take care of you, too. Gon and Killua just completely won him over, and he’s been with us this whole time. But, I get it, like, he and I have a lot in common….”

Kurapika nodded along with a soft smile as Leorio excitedly told him all about Zepile, the Greed Island game, and Gon and Killua’s efforts to raise money to purchase it. He was bragging about his knowledge of the finer points of arm-wrestling strategy when Senritsu returned with Kurapika’s things and some foods she guessed Kurapika might be able to eat. 

As promised, though with great reluctance, Leorio turned the care of Kurapika over to Senritsu. He went to unfold Gon and Killua’s futon in the adjacent room and, after theee days and two long nights, finally lied down to sleep. His body ached, and it was a long time before he could fully relax. For several minutes he listened to the murmur of Kurapika and Senritsu’s voices, unable to make out what they were saying clearly, but attuned to them above all other sounds and sensations. The voices surged and receded like a tide, weaving around each other in conversation, sometimes serious, sometimes bright, and Leorio drifted off at last with his ears tickled lightly by the melody of Kurapika's muffled voice winding on in some overly long explanation—Kurapika who was now thankfully awake and recovering, while all Leorio could do was sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been translated by a fan, [betty302](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betty302/pseuds/betty302) into Chinese. 
> 
> You can find it here: [［譯］實戰經驗 |Practical Experience (Chapter 19)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12332955)
> 
> I am honored someone enjoyed my work enough to want to translate it into their own language. Translating is a nice way to practice language, and also, it is very fun. I wish [betty302](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betty302/pseuds/betty302) luck if they ever attempt to translate the rest of this behemoth fanfic one day.


	20. Can’t but Won’t but Shouldn’t

Leorio had exhausted all his cigarettes the night before in anxious anticipation of his interview with Light. Discovering the details of all Neon had invented about him to gain her father’s approval had sparked something of a small-scale crisis within him, which meant he’d ended up wasting more cigarettes than he’d properly smoked by staring off into the distance too much and letting each one burn down between his fingers after the initial draw. The floor by the balconette was still littered with traces of ash that had blown in. He’d watched Kurapika stop and stare at it for a moment while cleaning, but Kurapika hadn't asked. Supposedly the evidence spoke for itself.

Leorio hadn’t had time to restock on cigarettes before heading out to the Nostrade Estate that morning, which meant he currently had nothing to do with his hands as Kurapika geared up to launch a veritable inquisition against him. He settled for tapping a pen he’d found between the couch cushions against the armrest as he waited.

“You’ve got questions, I’ve got answers…within reason,” said Leorio in a blithe tone that defeated its own purpose when matched with the faint line of a scowl forming between his eyebrows. “Ask.”

“Have you secretly had a crush on me all this time?”

“All of what time?”

“The time you’ve known me, I guess.”

“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t call it a crush. Crushes are baseless obsessions with people you don’t know or don’t trust your chances with. You didn’t exactly knock me off my feet when I met you, so I never developed a crush. Even now, it’s not like I lie awake at night trying to imagine every detail of your face or stupid stuff like that. I’m not that hopeless about it.”

Kurapika breathed a sigh of relief. “So you mean it wasn’t right away?”

“No, it wasn’t right away. I dunno how far back you want me to go with this, but I can promise it wasn’t with your first impression, that's for sure. When we met, you were just a stuck up kid with no manners. Weren’t even my type. Too pretty. I always assume pretty guys are going to be a pain in the ass. I was more worried you’d ruin my chances with girls.”

“So you only thought I was pretty? That’s all?”

“Yeah, for like the whole first week I knew you. Also, good with books. Also, dumb.”

“Leorio, please.”

“What? I hadn’t seen you kick anyone’s ass yet. And you basically told that ship captain you wanted to become a Hunter to get killed or die trying. That sounded stupid. My expectations were low. And I was jealous of your hammock.”

“I guess I should be happy you decided to be my friend anyway.”

“Of course you should. Once you teamed up with me out of what was most likely boredom during the fourth phase of the exam, you were stuck with me as a friend for life. You know, it was really too kind of you to cushion my ego by saying I’d proven myself to you, and that pairing up with me of all people was actually a logical choice.”

“It _was_ a logical choice, though,” insisted Kurapika. “You’d proven you were capable. That was it.”

“Yeah, right,” scoffed Leorio. Kurapika sighed. This was the beginning strains of a tired argument between them. It was the most exhausted topic the two knew and shared, a fight neither had won nor would ever win. Leorio liked to use it to stall or change the subject to escape conversations he didn't want to have. Kurapika normally went along as well, because if a conversation had got that uncomfortable, he probably wanted to escape it, too.

“What did dodging an attack prove anyway?” asked Leorio. “I didn’t get hit, but I still got duped, and then I chased the guy I was mad at instead of the guy with my badge. You showed up right in time to save my ass. Your help was the only reason I got my badge back at all. How impressive of me.”

“Well maybe my first impression of you was just way better? Maybe I didn’t waste time assuming you were pretty and stupid, because I’m just a more accurate judge of character than you are?”

“Bullshit, Kurapika. Your first impression of me was terrible. If I could go back in time, I’d go punch my own face for saying a lot of the shit I said to you right after we met.”

Kurapika’s face fell. “You were just lashing out,” he said. Leorio was uncomfortable with the sudden seriousness, which wasn’t part of their usual script for the argument he was trying to start. “No-one signs up for the Hunter Exam to make friends. Like me and probably every applicant but Gon, you were anticipating that you’d have to fight alone. You wanted to prove you could compete with us, be better than us. You’re lucky you changed your mind quickly, though. I was 96-percent certain you would fail the exam without help.”

“Thanks.”

“If it makes you feel better, I would’ve failed on my own, too.”

“Wow. And you admit that? So easily?” asked Leorio. He started stabbing the blunt end of the pen harder against the armrest. Kurapika didn’t look over, which was okay with Leorio. “Then I guess that means it’s true.”

“It’s not easy to admit... Ideally, I’d have wanted to pass on my own. I still strive to be strong enough to do everything I need to do alone. But, I’m worried that thinking of you like I am right now is going to make being alone much harder to stand. Don’t take it personally, but if I could turn these thoughts off or suppress them in some way, I would.”

“I’m taking it a teensy bit personally,” said Leorio in ill-chosen jest. “I know the feeling, though,” he added more seriously.

“And how were you able to act so normal so long in spite how you felt?” asked Kurapika, in a voice that sounded like he was thinking aloud and not actually asking a question to be answered. Leorio couldn't bring himself to look over, but was aware out of the corner of his eye as Kurapika’s head fell forward. “How long have you even been hiding how you’ve felt for, and the whole time I never noticed a thing?”

“That’s a deceptively simple question without a straightforward answer.”

“I have time. I have five hours until I have to be anywhere.”

“Five?” Leorio checked his watch and sighed when he saw the time. “That might barely be enough,” he said. He leaned back into his side of the couch, keeping the whole body of space between him and Kurapika untouched. With his free hand, he covered his face. He concentrated on picking his exact words, hoping nothing he said might make things worse, but also ready to blame the late hour and his fatigued state if they still did.

“I’ve only been really hiding it from you ever since I stupidly convinced myself that I could totally teach you kissing without it getting weird, but then it got weird.”

“So you’re the same as me, in that case? It started then for you, too?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“You don’t seem convinced.”

“It’s possible I liked you earlier than that.”

“How much earlier?”

“I rarely see you, so I think I can safely say that it hit me when I was helping you in York Shin—what with the heightened emotions, everyone risking their lives, that stuff. Before then, _maybe_ I knew something was up, but I called it a lot of things it wasn’t and didn’t let it get to me.”

“That sounds impossible. What else could you call it? What else can you even think of it as? The feeling is pretty unmistakable.”

“Probably that’s because it didn’t start out feeling like the kiss I gave you just now.” Leorio winced at the thought of said kiss. He had the impression Kurapika made a face as well. “It didn’t feel like a hunger. That part didn’t really kick in at full force until recently.”

“But you’ve had an idea since September?”

“Yeah.”

“And despite suspecting how you felt, despite what you realized in York Shin, you still decided to help me learn how to date anyway?”

“Yeah. But keep in mind that Senritsu kinda set me up here. Except, well, I kinda suspected she was up to something, but I let her set me up anyway. So I guess…yeah, it’s still my own fault. It was still totally my choice to agree to help or not.”

“Even though…well, I mean, wow. You must have stronger nerves than I thought you did, to hold yourself back so well. It’s been a little over a week for me, and I feel like the urge to be near you is eating me alive. How did you resist it so well?”

“A little mix of experience and a buzz-kill attitude.”

“What?”

“The truth is, and don’t let this hurt your feelings, I don’t believe in fated things. So, I don’t treat every person I’m interested in like they’re a passing chance I could miss at true love or whatever. Also, despite what movies show you about how impulsive romance is, some people you just know better than to get involved with, even if you’re attracted to them, so you don’t. Ill-fated love is for stories and high school kids.”

“Ah, so I only need to change my thinking to something more like yours, you mean. Great. Like I haven’t already tried that,” said Kurapika, unable to conceal his disappointment. He guiltily eased back on the sarcasm a moment later and apologized. “Sorry. But there have been so many times I’ve tried to talk reason to myself here. Nothing works. It just makes me feel stupid and powerless. It’s not so easy for me like it is for you.”

“Easy? For me? No, I only make it sound easy. I know it’s hard. That’s why I try not to get to the point you’re at before I have to rein myself in.”

“The point I’m at, as in I could’ve prevented this if I’d seen it coming sooner?”

“Well...well, I’m not sure about that. The first time you fall for someone, I guess you don’t get much of a choice. But, in my case, this isn't a new feeling. And since I’m not really looking for anyone to date right now, anything more than friendship becomes just a passing thought I don’t try to entertain much.”

“Passing thoughts? Seriously? For me, they aren’t passing thoughts. They’re much more intrusive than that. They’re literally planted in my brain. I try to distract myself, and I can’t. When I try to relax and think about nothing, it’s like they’re waiting for me. It’s the first place my mind goes.”

“In time that stuff wears off. You don’t know yet, but you will. Eventually you’ll calm down, and it won’t be so hard.”

“Will it get worse before then? Because it feels like it just gets worse. Right now I’m trying to talk to you, but there’s this whole other track of my mind that’s only focused on the fact that you like me back. It wants me to reach out right now. It’s trying to tell me I’m cold and I need to move closer to you. It isn’t subtle.”

Leorio’s slow grin was the only half of his expression that was visible from beneath his hand. “It’s kind of cute how you say all that so seriously, with that tone like you’re complaining about a problem that comes up at work. I almost don’t even believe you. So straightforward. You’re actually way more candid about this stuff than I would’ve guessed, Kurapika.”

“I’m not good at concealing emotions, so my only choice is to speak sincerely.”

“And yet you speak so calmly as well?”

“It’s called composure, Leorio. Nothing inside me is calm right now. It’s only a little easier right now because you aren’t looking at me. I’m not looking at you, either. I’m looking at a mark on the wall that I think was put there when someone moved the piano. It looks the right height.”

“It’s like a gouge as long as your pinkie finger and the paint around it is cracked?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. I suspected it was from the piano, too, but it’s also high enough to be from one of the stools. There’s no sign on the piano at any rate. I’ve checked it.”

“Huh….”

Kurapika stared at the injured spot on the wall, and Leorio inspected the fingernails of his hand still holding the pen. The persistent ticking of the wall clock marched on across the silence between them. Kurapika turned around in his seat to look for where it was and then turned back.

“If I’d known you were this bad, I wouldn’t have kissed you just now like I did. Sorry,” said Leorio. Kurapika shrugged. “You always look you’ve got everything tucked away and under control. You’re impulsive at times, but you’re otherwise a pretty serious guy. I’d assumed it’d take more than a kiss to affect you so much, but I guess that’s not true.”

“I look serious because I _am_ serious, Leorio. I’m not simply hiding my emotions with a serious face. If I could control my emotions even half as well as everyone assumes I do, I’d probably have been much better at pretending to date Neon in the first place. I’d also definitely have lasted much longer before confessing to you what’s happening to me now when I see you. But the problem is I _can’t_ control myself well. It’s not a trick or a façade when I’m cold and distant. My general mood is kind of blank anyway. Kind of dull. Most days I feel empty, which looks like I’m in control, but which probably just means there’s a lot more space to fill up when I’m angry or sad or…whatever it is I’m experiencing towards you these days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I suspected you could already tell that about me. You just prefer to think I’m hiding things because it’s comforting to believe I even have something to hide.”

“Ouch. Sure.”

The air on Leorio’s exposed face felt cool as he lowered his hand. The low light of the room was brighter, the images losing the sharpness that blocking the lamp from his peripheral view had given them. Everything surrounding him was expanded, the space of the room widening and making the physical gulf separating him from the end of the couch he avoided catching sight of more pronounced. But, though his field of view had widened, his mind remained trapped, squinting down through a narrow tunnel of hazy thought. He leaned forward to toss the pen onto the coffee table and stood up.

“I’d offer you a drink, but I think that’d work against us right now. I’ll bring you some water, though. Your throat sounds a bit dry. I also need to keep hydrated. I’m still sick from this afternoon.”

“I didn’t think you kept alcohol around.”

“I brought some back from my country for Senritsu, but she’s been too busy for me to give it to her.”

“More of that sweet stuff?”

“Less sweet than the previous brand. But don’t ask for any, because I don’t know your limit, so I’m not going to introduce that variable into this. I can hear you from the kitchen just fine if you speak up a little, so you can keep asking me whatever while I get the water.”

Kurapika didn’t seem to want to ask anything anymore. Leorio doubted Kurapika had exhausted everything he’d wanted to say, but the questions themselves had started to repeat. Kurapika wanted to know precisely how long Leorio had harbored feelings, though there was no precise answer, and what trick Leorio had used to prevent it from affecting him, though there had never really been a trick to it. In the past, way back when Leorio had felt attracted to someone for the very first time, his emotions had been just as out of control and confused as Kurapika’s now. Only experience tempered one’s feelings and impulses, but Kurapika didn’t have the experience. All Kurapika had was Leorio, and Leorio had no idea what to do about it.

“I’m sorry I said I liked you back without thinking,” said Leorio as he poured two glasses of water at the kitchen bar. “The truth is, you can like someone and have it change nothing between you. So, you don’t need to take that so seriously, what I said about liking you. It’s possible to like someone and never act on it, because along with a heart, we still have brains. But still, if you want to know a real trick: the fastest way to get over feelings for someone is to tell that person about it. From that point, you no longer deal in the hypothetical. You’re no longer persuaded by the stupid dreams your heart invents with no proof they’ll happen and an equal lack of proof that they won’t.”

“In  a way I did feel relieved after I told you I liked you,” said Kurapika without looking behind him to Leorio. “My dreams about you definitely got less stupid.”

“And see, now that we both know it and everything’s all out in the air between us, we can decide what we’re going to do about it.”

“What? Do...?”

“For my part, I’m willing to never start anything, because if it never starts, it won’t end. If it starts and then it ends, we’ll need to recover. We’ll need to measure out our requisite time and distance, and if both of us are measuring out time and distance between us, it’s possible we’ll never cross paths again. That’s the absolute last thing I want, and because I can’t make peace with this possible conclusion, I can’t, in full confidence, start anything with you.”

There was a sigh from Kurapika, but Leorio couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or of resignation. He put the pitcher of water away and brought the glasses to the coffee table, setting one on a coaster in front of Kurapika, and timidly risking a look at Kurapika’s face. Kurapika was watching the glass Leorio had just placed. His eyes lingered over Leorio’s hand as it fell away. The expression in in his gaze was unreadable.

“What is it that you want?” asked Leorio. “You seem to have something else to say. Maybe what I said has made you self-conscious. I’m not trying to sound cold here, like I don’t care. I’m just saying if you need to be rejected, I can do that. It won’t bother me.”

“Have you at least felt once how I currently feel?”

“Yes. Of course. This happens to everyone at some point.”

“Have you got any advice?”

“Time and distance. You’d be surprised what you can get over.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Even love.”

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you.”

“It was just an example of something extreme people can get over.”

“But…have you ever been in love?”

Leorio took a seat on the couch again, this time closer to Kurapika. He didn’t need the physical distance anymore. He’d already forced an entirely different source of distance already. Centimeters, inches, and personal bubbles of space no longer stood as barriers between them. The doubt was already in Kurapika’s mind, planted there carefully by Leorio’s intimidating nonchalance. If Leorio’s selfish and thoughtless kiss had opened a door a moment ago, his callous words must’ve shut it at least halfway. It was the most Leorio could do.

“I have been in love,” said Leorio into his water glass. Thoughts of the past, of being as torn and tired as Kurapika over uncontrollable feelings, rose to the surface of his mind. He shrugged them off and took a sip of water to steady his voice. “And now I’m not.”

“How many times?”

“Twice.”

“You’re not that old. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m someone people actually like, unlike you. The chances of my falling in love are way higher. You should be impressed it’s only just two. I’ve dated more than that.”

“Fine. Why only just two, then?”

“Because the first one was terrible and killed my enthusiasm. The second one happened entirely against my better judgment and didn’t go anywhere.”

“And you got over it both times?”

“I didn’t have a choice. Things end. I had other stuff to do with my life.”

“You’re way too offhand about it.”

“Do you want me to act upset and tell you a tragic story? I can try, but it’s hard to get worked up about it now. Maybe I’ll space out and get a little nostalgic, but I’m not going to weep and wax poetic for you. Basically, I’ve been in love twice, which means it went wrong twice, so if you want an assessment of how that feels, then here you go: _It sucked_. Want me to open the door of the balconette so we can stand at the rail, and I’ll sigh into the night or something as I’m haunted by recollections of the distant and unreachable past?”

“Do you have anything good to say about love, Leorio? Or relationships in general?”

“They can be fun.”

“Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah. Who doesn’t like fun?”

“Leorio….”

“You focus on the feelings too much and not on stupid stuff like fun, Kurapika. Your idea of love is probably very romantic and beautiful, I’m sure. But, in the real world, you don’t have to fall in love with everyone you like or even date. Take this for an extremely relevant example: You are a very important friend who I already love _as a friend_ , but you’re also the kind of friend who, if for some reason it magically became a good idea and worked out, I’d consider dating you. That will never happen, though. Just because we’re attracted to each other doesn’t mean we’re obligated to date and fall in love now. This kind of thing only goes as far as you let it.”

“So what can we do?”

“Be friends. And before you get upset thinking that I’m demoting you, I’ll have you know I’m incredibly picky about who my friends are. To you, the word ‘friend’ might imply a whole spectrum of interpersonal relationships that typically aren’t that difficult for me to develop or even maintain. But in my mind, I know or get along with a lot of people, but they aren’t necessarily my friends. I currently have four friends. You know all of them. You’re one of them.”

“You’re that picky? You seem to make friends with everyone.”

“That’s the problem with being a kid, Kurapika. You think friendly people like you, and that you should only be friendly to people you like. It’s going to be a lot easier to interact with people once you realize that this isn’t necessarily the case.”

“You’re calling me a kid? I’m nineteen. I’m the same age you were when you met me.”

“Wait, what?” demanded Leorio, lowering his glass and looking Kurapika square in the face. “Nineteen? Did you have a birthday?”

“At the start of April.”

“What? And you didn’t tell me? …Though actually now that I think about it, I never asked. Did I even see you on that day?”

“I took a personal day as a gift to myself and didn’t see anyone.”

“Dammit, Kurapika. That’s so unsociable of you.”

“It was what I wanted. You didn’t call me all day that day, either, so don’t worry about getting me a gift now. I’m counting your gracious absence as the gift.”

“You should be smart enough to know by now that trying to sabotage yourself by saying mean things won’t work with me,” said Leorio. Kurapika shot him a quick glance and then looked down self-consciously. “But hey, as a gift—shut up, you’re getting one—as a gift, after all this ball stuff, I’ll take you on a real date, okay? Maybe that will satisfy the curiosity I stirred up in you for romance. You can at least walk away from this awkward situation between us a little wiser for having gone on a date with someone you actually liked. How does that sound?”

“ _Unnecessary_.”

“Please, Kurapika, accept the offer. You’re a busy kid. It might be the only true date you ever get to go on.”

“Won’t it just make how I feel even worse?”

“Nope, because then I’m going back to my country to study after, which means you’ll have plenty of time to get over me. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but in my country we have a saying like ‘your heart doesn’t feel what your eyes can’t see’.”

“ _Out of sight out of mind_ , you mean?”

“That sentiment exactly. We don’t even have a true equivalent to the ‘distance heart fonder’ thing, so clearly that saying isn’t a universal truth. All that said, if you won’t accept a date as a birthday present, at least accept it as a going away present. Seriously. I’m so poor that the pleasure of my company is the only thing I can offer.”

“Really, Leorio….”

“Yes or no? Keep in mind my feelings are easily hurt.”

“Fine. Yeah, sure. This doesn’t even make sense, but whatever.”

“Awesome. One real date to get it out of our systems, and then we can both move on. Easy, right?”

“For you, yeah, the guy who can write off his feelings as pesky inconveniences. Who dates a million people and only falls in love twice.”

“That’s not fair. You thought two was too many a minute ago.”

“My perspective has changed. Thanks for teaching me. Your feelings for other people are apparently less than worthless if they mean so little to you.”

Leorio offered a grim laugh. He decided to act like Kurapika was right, that it really was incredibly easy for him. If it dampened Kurapika’s feeling toward him, then all the better. 

“You better believe it,” said Leorio. “Now, would you like me to kiss you again? You still have three hours, and that would be kind of fun, so….”

Kurapika took up the throw pillow at his side and buried Leorio’s face in it as Leorio jokingly leaned in. “No, I think I’m suddenly super over that right now, thanks. Save it for the date, idiot.”

“Are you sure? Last offer. I’ve got to start hanging out with Neon soon, and might not be able to get away.”

“I’m really sure, Leorio. Go to bed. I have to yell at a fishmonger in a few hours, and I’d like to be somewhat rested, because he’s going to be wide-awake.”

“Do you want me to play you a lullaby on the piano?”

“A what? How?”

“With my fingers? What do you mean _how_? You forgot I studied piano obsessively until I was twelve. I can probably wing something boring enough to put you to sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Leorio. You’ll wake the neighbors.”

“Then fall asleep really fast,” said Leorio, hopping up before Kurapika could stop him. “I’m kidding, though. That piano is damn loud. The original bedroom has a digital piano, though.”

“Original bedroom?”

“Down the hall. All the instruments are in it now. Senritsu plays a bit of everything, so it’s packed. Haven’t you ever asked her about her profession? Music is her life, you know.”

“I know that….”

“But you look surprised.”

“I’m just tired. I’m not thinking straight. I should sleep.”

“Okay, wait a minute before dozing off,” said Leorio. He went into the bedroom for a moment and emerged with a blanket. Kurapika had gone to pour the glasses of water out in the sink and was turning them over to dry on a dish rack. He came back to the couch as Leorio finished shaking the blanket out and spreading it over the cushions.

“Bed’s all made,” said Leorio. He reached out to ruffle Kurapika’s hair playfully as Kurapika sat down again. Kurapika hunched over but didn’t knock the hand away. It was Leorio who had to end the contact himself, which he did, awkwardly.

“Well, so…goodnight,” said Leorio. “I probably won’t see you in the morning, so…yeah. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Leorio.”

Kurapika brought his legs up to lie down, and Leorio turned for the bedroom. He changed clothes quickly in the dark and slipped into his bed, leaving the door open just enough to hear the ticking clock and the trace of Kurapika’s, perhaps not restful but still fairly light, breathing. The mattress Leorio lay in seemed to engulf him, as though it were endless in all directions, a lonely island made even more isolated due to the fact that it wasn’t shared. He’d finally confessed to Kurapika, and yet the two of them were still by themselves in the dark, separated by a wall, a partly opened door, and all the cowardice disguised as “good sense” contained in the universe.

Kurapika let out a heavy sigh and turned over on the couch. Leorio changed his own position in the bed in tried to clear his mind as he shut his eyes. In an hour Leorio was finally asleep. In three hours, Kurapika was up and putting on his shoes to go out. He paused with the refolded blanket in his arms at the bedroom door, uncertain what to do. Leorio’s room was too dark to see into. Kurapika ultimately retreated, saying nothing, and left the blanket on the coffee table before grabbing his coat and exiting the apartment as quietly as he could so as not to disturb Leorio’s sleep.


	21. Forwards

The Nostrade Estate staff understood vaguely that Leorio had been hired for _something_. Linsen, who despite his reticent nature moved easily through the hierarchy of household management, spread the story that Neon had met Leorio, liked him, and hired him to keep him close by, or else his visa would’ve expired and he’d have had to return to his home country. This was an effective cover, as no-one on the lower level staff knew Leorio was a Hunter and could reside anywhere on the Earth he pleased. All they knew for certain was that he was foreign. Once they heard from what country, they applied all the expected stereotypes onto him and rushed home to make themselves feel self-important and worldly by proclaiming that dating Leorio was an obvious and natural progression of Neon’s love life after going out with someone as stiff and cold as Kurapika for so long.

Despite the open secret about Leorio and Neon, most household staff assumed Leorio was at least in some way connected to security. Whenever he got lost in the house, the people he ran into would direct him to the bodyguards’ quarters automatically, even when he didn't ask. Their assumption that he belong there likely stemmed from the fact that Leorio and Kurapika were known to be friends, though Neon had nearly come between them. There was even a rumor Kurapika had introduced Neon and Leorio on purpose in some weirdly considerate gesture of replacing himself with a better option. Kurapika wasn’t happy to discover how rapidly this idea had caught on and been accepted as fact, since he was convinced it made him sound weird. He didn't like what it implied people thought of him.

“I’m going out with Basho and Senritsu when we get back to the city. Are you sure you’re not coming?” asked Leorio. Kurapika had run into him in the bodyguard’s kitchenette while Leorio had been in the middle of preparing a fresh pot of coffee. He’d decided to sit at the dining table and wait along with Leorio as the simple drip machine sputtered to life, asking for an apple from the bowl on the counter, which Leorio had handed to him on command while making some light conversation about the convenience and richer variety of options offered by single-serve coffee machines as opposed to the slower drip machine with a carafe. Kurapika had duly explained that there was no budget for either the nicer machine or the packaged pods it needed to operate. Leorio had agreed it was a luxury, and then switched to complaining about the coffee vending machines common in office break rooms in his country, where one had to pay for the coffee every time and it wasn’t even good, though some places had it worse and served soluble coffee and soluble milk with hot water. Kurapika, having had no experience with either of these things, settled into just nodding along until Leorio finally changed the subject to his after-work plans.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that we all go drinking together,” said Kurapika. “It’s public, and the risk is too high. And anyway, the reason Senritsu and Basho are off is because I’m working.”

“How risky is it, really, though? Hasn’t anyone seen us holding hands and dating in the city? What worse can we do than that?”

“That did get out. But you were very good about breaking into lectures that made it very clear you were instructing me. It was kind of a joke to people. Neon didn’t even believe it was true because she didn’t think I was improving enough to have a teacher.”

“You weren’t that bad,” said Leorio, shrugging. “Neon doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

The drip machine was beginning to hiss and grumble as it completed its brewing cycle. Leorio pushed off from the counter he'd been so casually slouching against and went to take a mug from the cabinet. Kurapika said he’d take a mug as well, which surprised Leorio, who’d assumed Kurapika had only been passing through and would need a more portable vessel to carry out.

“How long is your break?” asked Leorio, sitting across from Kurapika at the table now that he knew Kurapika would be around for a while. “I’m waiting for Senritsu and Basho to finish their shifts. Otherwise I’d have gone home already.”

“I’m taking over Basho’s patrol of the house.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” said Leorio. He took a tentative sip of the coffee that was still too hot. “You don’t need to entertain me if you need to take a break. Neon warned me I’d be here all afternoon for her tea party, so I brought along a textbook to study. I’m good by myself.”

“No, it’s fine. I normally just read or do some training, but you’re here, so I’d rather just talk with you. By the way, you’ve made this coffee way too strong.”

“Really? Because I literally can’t tell this from all the the tea I had this afternoon.”

“I don’t drink as much coffee as you do. This is going to make me anxious.”

“Bullshit. How do you stay up so long if you don’t drink coffee?”

“I have terrific resolve.”

Leorio scoffed at this. “Ah yes, the famous strength of your resolve,” he said. “If only we could all be as superhumanly resolved as you are.”

“I’m fairly indefatigable.”

Leorio scoffed again at the uncomfortably large word that didn’t fit the mood just right. “You know,” he said, smiling, “the funny thing is, I know better than to call you a liar. You’re definitely the guy who keeps going at 100-percent, right until your batteries die and your friends are standing around freaking out over if they need to take you to the hospital or not.”

Kurapika chose not to comment on this, aware it would just lead to an argument. Such comments, insufferable as they were, had been something he’d had to get used to when interacting with Leorio after York Shin. Indeed, it was part of the excuse he told himself for why he didn’t call Leorio more often. For all his talk of time and distance and getting over the past, Leorio was not actually much of a fan of letting go when it came to all the times his friends endangered their health.

“How was the tea?” asked Kurapika instead. “Wasn’t it held in the winter garden? Linsen oversaw the preparations for it, not me.”

“It was cute and girly except all the cakes were shaped like pink skulls, and Neon wore a tiara with filed and polished teeth in it. One girl thought they were pearls, and Neon invited her to have a closer look. That girl didn’t eat very much after.”

“Neon likes to shock people with surprise bits of her collection sometimes when they visit,” said Kurapika with a knowing grimace. “The diadem is from a cult ritual, and each tooth is from one of the leader’s seven daughters that were worshipped as saints and protectors. They perished in an avalanche, and the diadem was discovered at the site thirty years later. There are twelve teeth, though. No-one knows where the other five are from.”

“Spooky.”

“They might not be human.”

“Spookier.”

“Not really. Flesh collectors prefer humans, not beasts. Neon negotiated the price down because not all the teeth were verified human. She’s famous for driving a hard bargain. Collecting is her most passionate hobby. Plus, she’s very serious about teeth.”

“I heard she has a mummy.”

“Heard? She hasn’t shown you the mummy’s right arm yet? Basho got it for her back when our application process was much more…rigorous.”

“I haven’t seen it, no. We never have time. Light Nostrade finds it inappropriate for us to spend time alone, so, I’m only around when she’s throwing parties and stuff. I’m even supposed to leave early and hang out in here, far away, because it’ll be the end of the world if I stay back with Neon while everyone else leaves. Light wants us dating, but not too much. He trusted you much more than he trusts me.”

“I understand his decision. I wouldn’t trust you either if I didn’t know you. You have an opportunistic look in your eye that gets worse increases you smile, and it makes people assume the worst.”

“What? It’s a mirthful twinkle. I smile with my eyes as much as my mouth.”

Kurapika studied Leorio a moment and then shook his head. “No. Definitely not a twinkle. It’s an endless snide remark in a glance. But it’s not just your smile that does it; it’s the whole arrangement of your face. People always assume attractive men are up to something, so whenever you get cocky and smile too much, people start trying to figure out your motive.”

“…I’m just going to graciously accept the compliment in the part where you said I’m attractive.”

“Just don’t smile so much. Trying to be outgoing and appealing is always going to ingratiate you to some people. You’ll have to struggle to figure out which camp people are in when you interact with them: if they like you or can’t stand you.”

“Yes, whereas if you’re a jerk to everyone, the public opinion is unanimous. I see what you’re up to, Kurapika.”

Kurapika shrugged and took up his coffee with a self-important sigh. “It’s easier to assume everyone endures you than it is to try to figure out who’s actually on your side.”

“But I’m on your side, and you’re still a jerk to me.”

“I’m also just insufferable by nature.”

“Don’t say that like you’re proud of yourself. You’re not as terrible as you want to think you are. Don’t even waste your breath telling me that. I know better, and I’m never going to buy it. Although, yes, like everyone on the planet, you can be insufferable. But it’s not inherent to you. You’re also pleasant. Occasionally.”

Kurapika took another sip of coffee but frowned at the bitterness. Leorio told him not to drink it, and Kurapika immediately pushed the mug across the table to him. When Leorio demanded why Kurapika had even requested some of the coffee Leorio had been making, Kurapika wasn’t incredibly forthcoming with an answer. It was then that Leorio realized Kurapika had only taken coffee as an excuse to linger. He was both touched and yet embarrassed, because Kurapika needing an excuse to talk to him was a new and uncomfortable change to their dynamic.

“Are you sure there isn’t something you’d rather do, like study or train?” asked Leorio, providing Kurapika with an escape now that Kurapika’s motive was obvious. Kurapika had already stopped meeting his eye. “Like I said, you don’t have to go out of your way to keep me company. I’ve brought some stuff to study for school.”

It was so quiet the sound of a single, errant drop of coffee falling into the carafe of the drip machine was perfectly audible to both of them. Kurapika was thinking, considering. Leorio waited and didn’t look away.

“If you want to study, you can use my desk,” said Kurapika. “It’s better for your back to study at a proper desk. Dining tables are too low. The coffee table is worse. The desk has an adjustable chair, anyway.”

“Okay,” said Leorio. “Can I take the coffee with me?”

“Yeah. Just get a coaster from the common room.”

“I’ll take two and finished your coffee for you. Bring my book. It’s on the counter.”

Kurapika stood and took Leorio’s textbook before leading him from the kitchenette and down the hall to his bedroom. He opened the door and crossed quickly to the desk to place the book down on the wide, empty surface, devoid of any sign of a personal touch. He then went to open the blinds to let in more light. Leorio commented how tidy the room was as he stepped over the threshold, but he’d expected as much from Kurapika. He also joked that Kurapika probably didn’t have to worry about making a bed if he rarely slept in it, to which Kurapika rolled his eyes and said housekeeping staff made the bed because he didn’t have time to bother with it.

“I’ll leave you here and go to the gym,” said Kurapika in the doorway. “Do you want the door open or closed?”

“Opened. A closed door starts rumors.”

“Alright. Enjoy studying, then,” said Kurapika. “Uh, and well...bye, then.”

Kurapika all but ran away as Leorio began adjusting the desk chair and called out after him that he’d see Kurapika later. Leorio studied alone in silence for another hour until Basho came to find him and tell him they were leaving for the city. The only appearance Kurapika made for the rest of the day was in an upstairs window, offering a weak, half-hearted wave to Leorio as the car Leorio was in peeled out before heading down the drive to the opened gate. Leorio commented that Kurapika looked awfully worn out, and Basho and Senritsu solemnly agreed. Leorio swiftly changed the subject to commiserating over how tiring it was to guard Neon, and Senritsu and Basho eagerly launched into exaggerated, well-aired stories of the worst incidences where Neon had escaped or in some way critically disrupted the orderly flow of an otherwise good day at work. Leorio listened, proclaiming that it was important he prepared for the worse. At least, he ended up adding after joining the two bodyguards in rolling their eyes so much it was beginning to give him a headache, at least once they arrived in the city all three of them would be good and ready to drink.


	22. Cruising Altitude

Neon much preferred airships to travelling the ocean in a boat, even if what she sneeringly referred to as “a boat” was actually a luxury ocean liner, as elegant and laden with amenities as a floating five-star hotel. The rooms on this boat and associated privileges of the invitees had been assigned based on mafia hierarchy and family budget, with the most powerful families receiving the largest suites to accommodate their extensive staff and longer guest lists. The Nostrades, understandably, were no longer one of these influential families, and so, although she’d been saying for weeks that it was the only part of the ocean voyage she was looking forward to, Neon actually _wouldn’t_ be rooming in one of the five, chicly decorated, luxury loft accommodations that the ship was famous for. Instead of that typical lavishness she knew and expected, Neon had been assigned a more than sufficient (given her reduced station and short entourage) set of linked exterior rooms on a lower deck. This was nothing to snub one’s nose at, as the entire suit was still the generous equivalent of six and a half standard-sized cabins. Neon, however, wasn’t known for her grace in the face of crushing disappointment. Her father had therefore arranged a script of sensible arguments for Leorio and Senritsu to use to soothe her temper once she found out the truth.

According to Light’s direct instructions, Leorio’s first and most important job upon boarding the ship was to distract Neon from going to her room until they were already well out to sea. Once they were far enough away, Neon’s opinion of her loft-free accommodations wouldn’t matter, regardless of how much she might rage. She'd have nowhere left she to go except to the ball as planned, even if she had to be dragged. Leorio and the bodyguard staff had additional permission to lock Neon in her room for all four days of the trip there if necessary to keep her under control. 

When Leorio and Linsen inevitably complained at the security team’s pre-mission briefing about how hard it’d be to put up with Neon if she did get as mad as her father feared, Kurapika showed no sympathy for them. Instead, he sneered and sarcastically welcomed Leorio to life working for Neon Nostrade. Later, in a move that felt like not-so-subtle payback for their bellyaching, Kurapika and Senritsu abandoned Leorio and Linsen with Neon within the first hours aboard the ship. Senritsu had gone with one of Neon’s two attendants to set up Neon’s rooms and check on security. Kurapika, meanwhile, had gone to settle into his own room, which he’d been granted as a full-fledged guest of the Moreau Ball. 

Leorio had been surprised to hear Kurapika had a room to himself, since he’d assumed the entire group associated with the Nostrade family would’ve been lumped together in a single suite. Before taking his leave, Kurapika had enigmatically replied that in this case, no, that hadn’t happened. He’d insisted on a separate space for himself away from Neon, and had used their failed relationship as leverage to get the request approved. Therefore, while Leorio was entertaining Neon in the main promenade of the ship, as was his job, Kurapika would be in his own private rooms, by himself, attending to important family business he had over the phone and wouldn't explain I'm detail.

Luckily for Leorio, entertaining Neon came much easier to him than even he himself had anticipated. The moment he admitted to her that he had zero experience with even the most budget-friendly cruise ship, Neon took it upon herself to show him around and explain everything. She insisted it wasn’t all that different from a luxury airship, but Leorio didn’t have much experience with those, either. Neon couldn’t believe it. A Hunter certainly must travel the world in style, no? Was waited on hand and foot by legions of Association staff? Or else...what good was a Hunter’s License in the first place? Weren’t Hunters supposed to be rich? Weren’t they supposed to be exceptional?

Leorio chuckled and told Neon that a Hunter’s License didn’t necessarily guarantee wealth or prestige if the owner hadn’t done anything to earn those things other than pass the exam. Even Hunters had hierarchies and standards, and on top of that, not all Hunters even cared to be rich. To many Hunters, money was just a necessary tool, a key to open a door that couldn’t be kicked down. That was the extent of its value, and while Leorio did like nice things and expensive suits, the amount of money his dreams needed was nearly as impossible as the dreams themselves. However, as a Hunter, he had to try to make those dreams come true anyway, even if that sort of thing didn’t make sense to Neon.

Neon related all of this back to Kurapika when he returned a few hours later and asked him what he thought. Kurapika shrugged and said Leorio hadn’t had a lot of money growing up, so maybe that’s why Neon couldn’t understand the way he talked about it. He didn’t say much more, as Leorio returned from the toilet soon after, and Neon announced they could continue their exploration of the ship together. The grand total of three Hunters in her company ought to find that exciting, right? Hunters loved to explore new things, and she hadn’t taken Leorio to the VIP courtyard yet. She bet Leorio had never seen a VIP courtyard before, had he? It was one of the chicest shared spaces on the entire ship.

Linsen came over to Kurapika’s side as Neon searched for the nearest elevator. He asked anxiously if Neon was actually permitted to visit the exclusive spaces of the ship. Kurapika told him not to worry about it and handed him an alternate key-pass from the one they’d received upon boarding. Linsen took it in discreet silence, eyes widening with a question that Kurapika didn’t answer. As promised, this card brought them directly to the VIP deck. Kurapika wasn’t at all surprised.

“If you’d like, Miss Nostrade, I’ll speak to the concierge about dinner plans,” said Kurapika as they stepped out of the elevator and into the wider, more gilded hall of VIP deck. Neon hardly caught a word Kurapika had said to her in her haste to pull Leorio along with to see the deck’s private pool. He’d stopped to gawk at the complete change in his surroundings, and Neon failed to understand why. She accused Leorio of being nervous or too shy, when in reality he was dumbfounded.

“Oh yeah, do we have to get dressed for dinner?” she asked after Linsen caught up and repeated to her what Kurapika had said. “Also, wow, I just remembered we haven’t even seen my room yet! Crazy. Have we really been here three hours already?”

“There’s going to be a welcome reception in the main foyer of the ship later on, and if you attend that, you’ll have to dress for it,” said Kurapika. “Dinner you can take in your room, if you wish, or in any restaurant on board.”

“Then we should have dinner in the best restaurant tonight. Leorio’s poor, so, I want him to eat a meal more expensive than his suit.”

Linsen’s unflappable composure broke for a few short seconds, though he thankfully managed not to let any audible laughter escaped him. One of Neon’s  attendants, mortified on her mistress’s behalf, covered her mouth in aghast and cast apologetic eyes to Leorio. Leorio saw all of this and cleared his throat.

“If you’re paying for all my meals in a swanky restaurant, you can go ahead and say I’m destitute for all I care,” he said brightly. Neon looked at him curiously. “But you might not want to, because people will wonder what you’re doing hanging around with a guy with no money.”

“Oh yeah, good point, Leorio, not everyone around is as open-minded as I am,” said Neon. “People can be mean about that kind of stuff, and I don’t have the kind of time to deal with it.” She turned to Kurapika and waved for him to go on to the concierge desk. “Kurapika, you can make the reservation for three, okay?”

“Who are you inviting?”

“No-one. You, me, and Leorio are three people.”

“I’ll eat with the rest of the family staff.”

“No, you’re a guest, stupid. You eat with us.”

“Yeah, stupid, eat with us,” said Leorio, mimicking Neon’s cadence as though they shared the same mind between them. Kurapika was shocked when Neon roared with laughter, but at the same time he knew exactly why she did. Leorio had called Kurapika stupid, and that was something Neon could always get behind. Still, it bothered him. It was the first time Kurapika had seen how well the two were getting along. Perhaps, he worried, things were going too well.

Kurapika made sure his disappointed shake of the head at Leorio’s childishness was perfectly evident as he sighed and said he’d go make the reservation for three guests as Neon had requested. As he listened to Leorio and Neon head on to the VIP courtyard without him, he remembered the advice Leorio had given him originally about how he’d have made his life much easier if he’d just befriended Neon and worked with her as a team.  

Kurapika grew disappointed again, though this time only with himself. It looked like it was going to be a very long four days in Leorio and Neon’s company. He continued to the concierge desk, his expression empty of all emotion as he fortified himself against whatever tests of his patience were in store for him. Far away behind him, he heard Leorio laugh loudly, as though reading Kurapika thoughts and doubting his luck to succeed.


	23. The Boss of Hamelin

After a full day, Leorio and Neon still hadn’t seen Neon’s room. Leorio had selfishly decided on his own that he’d never have to put up with Neon’s temper if he ensured she never had a reason to throw a tantrum in the first place. This was why, on the very first night aboard the ship, they’d fallen asleep leaning against each other while marathoning cheesy horror films in one of the ship’s private cinemas. Kurapika had waited, alert and impatient, alongside them, hoping Leorio would betray some sign of consciousness so that he could finally order him to take Neon to her room. Kurapika ended up waiting a full three hours in vain before giving up and leaving, apologizing to Senritsu and offering to bring her a chair as she arrived to start her shift that would last the rest of the night.

The next morning, Leorio had no reason to keep Neon away from her room any longer, though he did make a valiant, and shockingly nearly successful, attempt at convincing her to buy new clothes for the day at one of the designer shops onboard. As soon as Kurapika received notification that Neon was in her room _at last_ (and also that Leorio had dodged any responsibility for dealing with her reaction to it by sending her off with Senritsu as he retreated to get coffee instead), he headed out to hunt Leorio down and berate him for his antics.

“You’re an idiot, Leorio. You’re a coward, too.”

“What do you mean? My job is to keep Neon happy as much as possible,” said Leorio as he squinted up sleepily and sipped a small cup of coffee. He yawned and put the coffee down to roll his shoulders back until there was a cracking sound. He winced in pain a second later upon discovering he wasn’t able to turn his head to look over to Kurapika standing just beyond his left shoulder.

“Anyway,” said Leorio, pulling the newspaper on the table towards him so he could glance over the headlines, “there’s no reason for me to go with her to her room when she’s showering and changing clothes. That’s a bit too ambitious for a guy to get away with. Those girls who take care of her wouldn’t have let me through the door. Plus, they’ll have barricaded it so Neon wouldn’t be able to storm out. I’m not a coward. I’m just eliminating a trip that would’ve been a waste of my time.”

“Neon’s not going get that mad about the room, Leorio. I took care of it.”

“Wait,” said Leorio, forgetting the crick in his neck as he attempted to look over. He swore as the pain prevented him. “What do you mean you took care of it?”

“The room she has now is more than up to her expected standards, loft and all. Now, finish your coffee and come with me. I need to show you where you’re staying, because it’s definitely not in the same suite as Neon. Light said you could sleep outside on a deck chair for all he cares; you’re not getting anywhere near Neon when she’s in her bed.”

“Ah. Well, I guess that makes sense,” said Leorio. He folded the newspaper in half and placed it under his arm as he stood. He shot down the rest of the short coffee in two gulps and set the cup back down on its saucer with a definitive clink. Ready now for anything, he invited Kurapika to lead the way.

“Welcome to Neon Nostrade’s original room assignment,” said Kurapika as he opened the door to the suite that Leorio immediately pointed out was much smaller than he’d anticipated based on what he'd been told in the pre-mission briefing the morning before.

“I sold off the extra staff rooms to the adjoining cabins. Behind that tapestry over there is a sealed off doorway to a set of rooms the guest next to us is using for their security detail.”

“I thought you said security couldn’t attend the ball. Why would someone bother with a full detail?”

“Well, the most paranoid families always travel with more than they need to begin with, and that’s even before you consider the recent murders of so many bosses in the York Shin auctions. A large part of the reason security personnel can’t enter the Moreau Mansion is that the ball would become overrun with them. Neon only has Senritsu and Linsen because it’s cheaper, and also, you’re a Hunter, so you’re taking Basho’s place. I’m also unofficially working, though I don’t have any scheduled shifts I have to show up for. So, in a way, she’s got a significant security detail herself just to attend a ball.”

“You’ll be working one of the longest unofficial shifts of your life,” said Leorio as he walked around the room, appraising its decoration and amenities with a critical eye. “Because unfortunately Neon wants you to get lunch with us, and then dinner again, and then she expects you to attend a concert of hits from some creepy musical about a guy obsessing over a girl who doesn’t like him back. It's gruesome. I don't know if you're familiar….”

“The man kidnaps the girl and puts her in a cryogenic freeze so that he can replace her cold and unloving heart with the heart of a much nicer girl he plans to search the world for. I know. Linsen mentioned it to me last night.”

“Did he also inform you it’s a comedy? The guy goes around murdering ‘nice’ girls who turn out to be flawed, and his solution is to patch together a kind of Frankenstein heart from all of them. It’s fucking weird.”

“I know that, too. Neon already saw that show during its original run in York Shin a year and half ago. Apparently it did very well there.”

“Of course it did. People in York Shin are weird.”

Leorio sat on the couch and took the paper from under his arm. “So,” he said as he shook the pages out so they stood smooth and upright, “are you and I in this cabin together? Or do I have to sleep in a lounge and shower in the gym while you hold all of my luggage for me?”

“You have a room.” Kurapika pointed down a short hall. “The one down there. I had a steward unpack your things because you were out so long yesterday.”

“My own room? Was that expense necessary? I thought you’d have put me on a couch.”

“This cabin is intended to have two bedrooms minimum. Plus, I have a busy schedule. You’ll sleep better in your own bed.”

“You’re still busy? Even way out at sea? Is the whole Nostrade enterprise going to fall apart if you leave it alone for even a day? Or is Light Nostrade going to have panic attacks and drink himself into a stupor every night if he doesn’t hear your dulcet tones over the phone three times a day, reassuring him you’ve got everything under control?”

Kurapika sighed. “Don’t say that kind of thing outright, you idiot,” he said, pausing on his way to press a button that would lift the blinds and afford Leorio more light to read his newspaper. “You don’t know who’s listening. Someone’s whole security detail is just on the other side of that wall beside you, and they might not get your sense of humor.”

“Calm down. I’m letting off steam over my girlfriend’s asshole dad,” said Leorio. He shot a glance at the aforementioned wall as he played the previous comment off as an entirely different sort of joke than he’d intended. Kurapika gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up and continued on to his bedroom and shut the door. The rumble of the mechanical blinds clicked to a stop. Leorio returned to reading the headlines and wondered aloud how the newspaper was even delivered to the ship. Kurapika, from behind the shut door of his room, yelled out the word “carrier condor pidgeon” and went back to work.

* * *

A few hours and a long nap by Leorio later, Leorio and Kurapika left to meet Neon for lunch. Afterwards, Kurapika disappeared with a quick warning to Leorio not to stop by their room without notifying him first. Leorio said it was no problem, as he doubted he be allowed to get very far from Neon anyway. According to Linsen’s updates, Leorio proceeded to spend most of his afternoon lounging by the pool with Neon and a few other mafia sons and daughters around her age. All of them had wanted to see Neon’s cabin, as they were amazed she had an entire two-floor loft to herself. Kurapika told Linsen over the phone that Neon had permission to throw a party if she wanted. What was the point of having the best accommodations on the ship if not to show them off? He soon heard Neon cheering happily at the news after it was relayed to her, even as she marveled in the same breath over how Kurapika was so much nicer when he wasn’t her boyfriend.

At dinner later that evening, Neon ran a list of names by Kurapika of what she was planning to call herself and Leorio as a couple. In the lead so far was Leon, for Leorio plus Neon, but also it meant lion in some language, which was kind of cool. Kurapika made a comment about the two of them  _ laying it on _ pretty thick and looked at Linsen to share a jeering smile over Neon’s head. Leorio laughed, too, and said that not only was he nicer, but Kurapika was also a lot more fun when he wasn’t Neon’s boyfriend. He then explained the joke to Neon, who deemed it okay, but not great. She didn’t like it when Kurapika tried to be funny, because she didn’t expect it and couldn’t tell if he was joking or just being mean.

In spite of Leorio’s damning classification of it as “weird shit” as they left the theater, Kurapika announced that he'd found the concert about literally stealing the hearts of damsels to be moderately entertaining. Neon claimed this was because she and Kurapika had a tangent appreciation of the subject matter due to their mutual interest in collecting certain black market  items the play had subtly harkened to. Kurapika kept his mouth shut instead of agreeing to this, and changed the subject to what time Neon’s party was scheduled to start. He speculated that the room’s complimentary butler service had already delivered the drinks and catered refreshments, which made Neon jump for joy because she hadn’t expected Kurapika would spend money for her private get-together. Leorio himself seemed impressed, too, though his curiosity lay more in wondering where the money to pay for it all had come from. Excited and beaming, Neon sent the two of them off to get ready and then meet up with her later in her room once the guests arrived. 

“Seeing how we’re in international waters, is Neon at least allowed to drink at her own party? In my country, you can drink at 16. In her country you can drink at 18. Clearly, that must mean age is only a number and not a precise determination of responsibility.”

“In some countries you have to be 21, Leorio. Don’t push it. Don’t let her drink.”

“Fine,” said Leorio. He adjusted the lay of his the black, open robe that hung to his knees and glistened whenever he moved. “Also, tell me, Kurapika, is that really what you’re wearing?” 

Leorio gestured up and down, emphasizing Kurapika’s typical, drab suit, which Leorio thought was ridiculous, even as his sweeping gesture revealed his own coat had a lacey, golden scale pattern printed on it. Leorio looked like he was wearing a reptile, as in not just its skin, but an actual animal that just so happened to take the shape of a housecoat. It seemed to breathe along with him in the mirror. “You’re really boring,” he said. “Don’t you own anything cool?”

“It’s not my job to look cool,” said Kurapika. “And anyway, this shirt is kind of a shiny blue. The stripes on this tie have silver stitches in them, so I’m on trend. Not like I had a choice to follow the trend or not, really. It’s impossible to find anything that doesn’t at least sort of shimmer anymore. I’m forced to be in style whether I want to or not.”

“Barely,” said Leorio with a derisive scoff. “I’m not sure silver matches your complexion.”

“It matches my accessories,” said Kurapika, holding up his right hand, which was draped in five lines of chains that glinted in the lamplight.

“Ah. So you’re going to have those out? Who are you planning to fight?”

“Anyone who might want to come after me. I’m a guest and my own bodyguard for this trip, and I don’t want anyone to assume I just conjure these out of thin air.”

“But you—”

“Can never be too prepared,” interrupted Kurapika while pointing to the shared wall with the other cabin. “Right?”

“Oh yeah. Right,” said Leorio and stopped talking.

Neon’s party was in full swing by the time Leorio and Kurapika arrived. Neon immediately spotted Leorio and praised him for wearing one of the outfits she’d helped him pick out when they’d been shopping for ball attire the week before. Eager to show him off, she dragged Leorio off with her into the crowd, leaving Kurapika to search for Senritsu, the only person besides Leorio he could imagine spending time with, on his own. An attendant he called over told him Senritsu had gone to spend the evening someplace quieter, which Kurapika unhappily agreed was probably what was best for her. Setting his express to cold indifference, he resigned himself to passing the evening in relative solitude on one of the couches lining the wall instead, well away the from the bustle of activity focused on the central sitting room space that’d been cleared and designated as a dancefloor.

Kurapika glanced at the bar and decided he didn’t like the look of the crowd at that end of the room. Careful that no-one followed him, Kurapika cut into the locked guest quarters where Neon’s bodyguards were staying. He took a bottle of water from the refrigerator, deciding there was no point hazarding the bar for the same. The last thing he wanted was get pulled into a social circle and forced to converse with strangers while waiting for the bartender’s attention. He was confident that as long as he kept from lingering anywhere people were feeling sociable, no-one would bother him. No-one present would know him well enough to overcome his sour expression for the sake of making idle chit-chat. The only people who might possibly risk it were Neon’s school friends, since, thanks to Neon’s attitude, they weren’t intimidated by him anymore. Thankfully, most of those people were already huddled around Neon on the dance floor. As Kurapika checked himself in the mirror before heading back out, he silently hoped they’d remain there the rest of the night.

Kurapika had returned to the crowd for less than a minute before he was forced to realize he’d been wrong about all of Neon’s friends sticking close to her. At least one was feeling independent, and it just so happened to be one Kurapika didn’t especially like.

“Hey, Kurapika! Looking grim, buddy,” called down a voice Kurapika had already placed without looking. He groaned and craned his neck upwards to see them anyway.

Fedrik Rozas stood almost directly above Kurapika, dangling over the railing of the loft level that jutted out and covered a good fourth of the densely packed floor below. He’d shouted deafeningly to get Kurapika’s attention, which had earned him the additional attention of half the room. Though he wasn’t happy about it, Kurapika knew he’d have to go up and be polite, or the guy might yell something worse. That, or he’d topple over the rail and hurt himself trying to wave harder.

“How’s it going?” asked Fedrik as Kurapika joined him and his group of friends. “Haven’t seen you around in ages, man. It’s too bad about you and Neon.”

Kurapika moved out of the way as Fedrik tried to pat him on the shoulder. Fedrik backed off with a shrug.

“Of course you never see me; we’re not friends,” said Kurapika. “We just both know Neon.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Good point,” said Fedrik, rolling his eyes at Kurapika’s predictably sour mood. “I remember now. Thanks.”

Kurapika didn’t want to include the group Fedrik was hanging out with in their conversation, so he went to stand by the rail, thinking he’d done all that was required of him to set the tone between them both. To his annoyance, Fedrik remained oblivious and kept near him, talking once more.

“You been watching that hella older dude she’s with now?” asked Fedrik. He’d assumed Kurapika had stepped away to get a better view of the dance floor below. “Shit, talk about everything you’re not. I think he’s a foot taller than you. Also, way more chill from what I’ve heard. Seems like a pretty cool guy. Tough break, man.”

“It’s not a whole foot,” said Kurapika. He wasn’t even looking at Leorio. The thought of watching Leorio and Neon hadn’t even occurred to him. He resisted the urge to glance over now and convince Fedrik that Fedrik had been right. “It’s like half a foot.”

“Man, I guess. Seems like it’s more, though.”

“Also, he’s not _that_ old. He’s only like three years older than her.”

“No, he looks way older,” said Fedrik. “I’m sure Neon’s just rebounding with some more experienced, older guy because she thinks it’s gonna make her look more serious. Lora’s talking to some dude in university, too, now. The girls our age want to trade up for men before they finish high school. They’re getting ready for university.”

“Our age?” asked Kurapika. He twisted the cap of the bottle of water open and took a sip to clear his throat. “I’m older than you,” he continued stiffly. “I have a job and adult responsibilities. I’m not some kid.”

“No, man. We’re basically the same age. Neon told me how old you are. I’m in the class above her, remember? She’s like a year younger than me.”

Kurapika frowned as he thought this over. He realized with a sinking feeling that Fedrik was right. “Goddamn,” he hissed to himself. Fedrik didn’t hear it over the thud of the music.

“Anyway, I feel for you, Kurapika, even if Neon’s right and you’re kind of a jerk. No hard feelings. Let me get you a drink, and you can hang out with us.”

“It’s an open bar. I paid for it. If anything, I’m the one buying you all drinks.”

There was pause emphasised the the loudly beat of the dance music measuring the time. Fedrik’s jaw dropped and he took a short step back to better reassess the situation, as well as Kurapika. Kurapika waited.

“Shit, I heard something like that,” said Fedrik slowly. “I heard you bought this room out from under the Mastrada Clan after their invitation got rescinded or something. My dad thinks you played a part in that. He thinks you played a really big part.”

“Does he, now?”

“Yeah. He’s been saying for a while that you run things for Light Nostrade these days. You’re not just a bodyguard; you’re practically a junior boss.” Fedrick stopped and shook his head. A smile that was far too wide and far too confident stretched across his face. “But that’s crazy, though. Light Nostrade doesn’t play well with others, much less share power. He wouldn’t let some hired muscle with no experience take over part of his empire like that, especially not if it’s the guy who nearly bankrupted his organization in that fucking insane bidding war with Zenji in York Shin. Everyone knows it only happened because you pissed Zenji off by sticking a knife in his face like an idiot.”

“I did that. And then I punched Zenji in the face right before we bid on the Scarlet Eyes. That’s why his nose was broken.”

“ _What_? That’s fucking crazy. If that’s true, you’re fucking crazy.”

“It is. And it’s also true what your father said. I am a sub-boss of the Nostrade family of the Ritz clan,” said Kurapika. He looked at Fedrik and then over his shoulder to Fedrik’s friends. He flashed a small, self-satisfied smile to everyone before turning his attention back to the dancefloor where Leorio was currently attempting to guide Neon through what Kurapika guessed was a waltz. Neon tripped in her heels and caught Leorio’s coat to steady herself, nearly pulling Leorio down with her. They both laughed over it. Neon’s guests laughed as well. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Everyone, that was, but Fedrik Rozas, who’d gone pale.

“The Nostrade family is too big. You can’t possibly…I mean, you’re a teenager. We’re the same age.”

“We’re the same age, perhaps, but we’re nothing alike,” said Kurapika. He stepped away from the rail and turned, leaning in until he was close enough that only Fedrik could hear him. “I survived the bloodbath that was the underground auctions in York Shin, and it wasn’t because of luck or cowardice, because I was right in the center of it. It was the Nostrade family that was the only one strong enough to stand up the Phantom Troupe and survive, even when the Shadow Beasts of the Ten Dons were destroyed. You have no idea how strong I am, you have no idea who I am, and since I outrank you in every way, I’d prefer you didn’t speak to me so casually as though in this life or any other we could possibly be on the same level. I’m not ‘man’ or ‘dude’ to you; I am Kurapika or ‘sir’ to you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

Kurapika raised a brow.

“…sir?”

“Good,” said Kurapika. “Now, go enjoy the party or drink or dance or whatever the hell it is you’d like. Get away from me, and don’t ever call me over to come talk to you again.”

Fedrik dithered a moment in terrified confusion before managing what looked like a mangled bow. He thanked Kurapika, unsure why but feeling it was necessary, and retreated back into his group once more. A moment later, they all went downstairs.

Kurapika took another, longer sip of water and closed the bottle. He returned to watching the people below, noting Fedrik’s group as they cut through the crowd to the bar. Scanning the dance floor next for a familiar face, he allowed his gaze to linger on Leorio and Neon, though he never caught Leorio’s eye, as Leorio never looked up. Kurapika felt secretive where he was, like a spy, hidden from view as well as from mind of everyone below. The coveted ocean vista the room was acclaimed for had disappeared into the night, leaving the two stories of windows dark. Neon’s party was reflected in the glass, doubling the amount of guests with the addition of their shadowy doppelgängers. Kurapika searched the landmarks of the reflected room until he made out the blur of himself leaning against the railing. His shape was partly drowned out by an orange light from outside, but his pale hair and face distinguished him from the others standing around the loft. He shifted his weight between his feet and watched the indistinct specter of himself flicker accordingly.

The group surrounding Neon and Leorio began to count time loudly as Neon continually missed her dance steps. The rhythm, which couldn’t go three minutes without Neon changing it to find something easier, was now much faster than the waltz had been. Kurapika didn’t recognize what it was. His own people’s music was the only sort he’d ever developed an intuitive recognition of, though even that knowledge seemed to be leaving him with time. He distantly recalled the resonant drone and wail of polyphonic pipes, the thunderous drums that accompanied them, and a few lines and verses here and there about love or suffering or the seasons. Anger and its price had been a particularly well-represented theme, as the Kurta had always been aware they suffered a characteristic increase in power when their eyes flash red from fury, and they knew well that such great strength didn’t mix well with violent tempers. The Kurta mythology had been full of tragic heroes who’d fallen when they’d failed to exemplify the virtues of self-restraint and a docile nature. Their tragic example informed Kurapika that he hadn’t been the first in his clan’s history let rage consume him as he set out on a vendetta against the villains of the outside world, although he was most certainly destined to be the last.

Neon said something into Leorio’s ear, and a minute later, after pretending to nearly drop her in the middle of a dangerously steep dip, Leorio kissed her. The audience let out a low cheer of astonishment, praising Leorio for his sly moves. Kurapika felt his heart grow cold and poison his blood with a deathly chill. The bottle of water in his hand fell with a hollow, sloshing sound at his feet and rolled away. He diverted his gaze before the kiss ended to retrieve it. Someone he didn’t know had already picked it up and was holding it out to him with a polite smile. Kurapika nodded and took the bottle back. The typical half-laughing remark about how he was lucky he hadn’t been holding a glass died in his throat. It was what Leorio would’ve said, he was sure, because Leorio was always ready to charm anyone with a word. Kurapika, instead, said nothing, not even to thank the stranger before promptly turning to leave.

Kurapika adjusted his cuffs without looking at anyone as he made his way down the stairs. He noticed the steps were lined with more people than they’d been an hour ago, and he thought about going through the crowd with his dowsing chain to separate those actually invited from those who’d simply shown up. It would’ve felt pretty great to throw his weight around and ruin people’s nights, but in the end, going around testing every guest would’ve proved more trouble than it was worth. People would wonder how he knew and what his chains had to do with it, and any covert Nen-users would get a bonus clue about how his Hatsu operated. And yet, the more the thought about it, the more Kurapika knew it was necessary to extract the uninvited guests. It would be better if the party were somewhat exclusive, whether it made Neon the most popular person on the ship or not. 

Much too readily, as it also meant Kurapika would have an excuse to leave, Kurapika’s mind went to Senritsu. To make herself a more effective in mafia work, she’d developed a Pied Piper ability to help secure a potentially hostile room before Light entered. With a slight change in the music’s intention, she could use it to drive out uninvited guests and send them to another part of the ship, ideally someplace they’d have to pay for their drinks.

Kurapika pulled aside one of Neon’s attendants as he left the room and told her he was stepping out to find Senritsu. He then had to literally shove and squeeze between people milling about the narrow hall to escape. Free and out of sight of the ever-increasing line of  guests, he pulled out a colorful map of the ship he’d got from the Customer Service desk and searched for Senritsu’s general location with his dowsing chain. It was revealed that she was downstairs in the casino, likely eavesdropping on the big-spenders and familiarizing herself with the atmosphere. The Nostrade family gambling operation was slowly but surely coming under Kurapika’s control, and she’d said she’d wanted to learn the business’s finer aspects if it was going to be their next big venture. She was clearly giving it her all and paying close attention. Before Kurapika even arrived, she already knew he was coming and was waiting for him under an archway leading ship’s casino.

“You get tired of Neon’s soiree?” Senritsu asked Kurapika as he took a seat across from her in a lounge just outside the cordoned-off gaming space. “Or are you just tired in general?”

“In general,” said Kurapika. “Always.”

“Then go to bed. I don’t think she’ll miss you if you don’t go back.”

“I’m considering it.”

“You’ve worked enough today. Let Leorio take care of Neon. He does a good job.”

“He’s taking excellent care of her already; I’m not worried about that.”

“So then, what are you worried about?”

“What?”

“Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

Senritsu waved her finger in the air as she said this, bringing it up and down in a swinging motion that went in time with the supposed beating of Kurapika’s heart. She didn’t need to remind Kurapika how his heart revealed his true emotions to her in ways he couldn’t conceal them. Sometimes he felt like he even relied on her to help spell those emotions out to him because he was so mistrustful of how he sincerely felt.

“Do you want a list of everything bothering me?” asked Kurapika with a dry laugh that didn’t linger. “Because that would take a while, and I came here to give you a job to do.”

“No. You would’ve called if it were just work. I have my phone, and I always hear it when it rings, unlike you.”

“That’s not true. I pretty much always notice when people call me. I ignore them.”

“They know you do, Kurapika. That’s why they always get on to you for it. That’s why certain ones end up complaining to me about it when complaining to you fixes nothing.”

Kurapika smirked in recognition of who precisely this certain, in reality singular, person was. He rested his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers over the chains on his right hand. The bitter smile began to fade as he watched the floor around the feet of Senritsu’s chair. In a moment, the expression was gone, and he was back to looking exhausted.

“Leorio says you knew about how he felt even before he was ready to listen to anything you had to say.”

“You mean what I heard in his heart?”

“Yeah.”

“He told me not to tell him because he already knew what it said, but he wanted to believe he didn’t.”

“I don’t blame him,” said Kurapika as the chains beneath his fingers pressed into the back of his hand, seeming to warm with his body heat only as he remembered they were supposed to. “I agree with that choice. I think it’s sensible.”

“Are you planning to follow his example? Do you think it’ll be easier to separate from someone if you never know exactly how you feel?”

“No. I actually want you to tell me exactly how I feel.”

“That’s asking a lot. I read the physiological indicators of people’s emotions, which for simplicity’s sake I refer to as their hearts. I can’t read anyone’s mind.”

“I understand that. But I still want to know what you see. Or well, hear. _Perceive_ , I guess.”

“What do you hope I’ll tell you?”

Kurapika lowered his voice and leaned a little further in. “Does it sound to you…like I’m in love? Maybe? Can you tell the difference between that and something else?”

“You feel love. I can hear it.”

“But is it real love, or am I just too…alone? Is it desperation? How can you tell it from panic?”

Senritsu chuckled and reached forward to give Kurapika a good-natured pat on the head, since the top of his head was the only part of him she could reach. Kurapika didn’t move to brush her off, just pressed harder with the pads of his fingers on the chains until they were digging into the flesh on the back of his hand.

“It’s a lot like panic,” Senritsu admitted, “especially in your case because you’re scared of it. It’s hard for anyone as selfish as you are to realize for the first time that another person matters so much. But, as you get more confident in the strength of your connections with other people, it isn’t so frightening.”

“But how do I know?”

“Know what?”

“That I love someone, or that I’m in love with someone?”

“Ah, well….”

“Does it have a different sound? Do you hear one or the other in me?”

Senritsu smiled sadly and shrugged. “I’m sorry, but they aren’t that different. At some point it’s no longer about what exactly you feel for someone. It’s about what you choose. You can feel a real attachment to someone, and then choose to turn away from it regardless. Feelings are only part of what makes something last.”

Once more, Kurapika felt the aching cold inside him that hadn’t fully gone away since he’d seen Leorio and Neon kiss. He swallowed, but his mouth was dry. The moisture seemed to have migrated to his eyes. He blinked a few times, hard, to clear them, and his contact lenses floated freely for a moment before finally straightening out, his sprouting tears successfully fought back.

“Do you think I’d do that kind of thing? Choose to leave?”

“No. You might believe you’re capable of that, but don’t worry. You won’t.”

“How are you sure?”

“You know too well what it’s like to be alone in the world. You can’t leave people behind so easily.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t do it. I’m not even all that scared of being alone, really. Indeed, I prefer to work by myself. I know how to be alone. I’ve adapted to it.”

“But being alone was never what you chose. You only ended up that way.”

A raucous cheer rose from the casino, muted through the wall enough that Kurapika couldn’t be sure what exactly was being celebrated. Senritsu didn’t respond to it. She’d probably heard the entire build up to that moment, and thus nothing about it intrigued her or drew even the slightest bit of her attention. The voices began chanting in a language Kurapika recognized but didn’t speak, and he allowed the interruption to prolong the pause in the conversation between him and Senritsu. A short time later he stood and motioned for Senritsu to get up as well.

“I came to tell you I need you to removed the uninvited guests from Neon’s room,” said Kurapika as they walked down the hall towards the elevators. “She didn’t arrange for a list to be kept at the door, so they’ve been flooding in. The room is reaching its full capacity. It’s going to become a safety hazard if there’s too many people.”

“I’ll take care of it. You should get some sleep. I’ll tell Neon you’re busy. She never asks too much about that. Her father’s trained her very well to never question what people are doing when they’re busy.”

“Leorio hasn’t been trained to mind his own business as well as she has, though. He might bother you.”

“He never bothers me to tell him more than you want him to know.”

“Really?”

“Whatever he wants to know about you, he asks you directly. He doesn’t try to go behind your back.”

“Then I guess the respectful thing to do is not ask you if he’s secretly in love himself?”

“I’m not going to put words in his mouth for you. Ask him yourself.”

“I can’t. I already told you what we decided.”

“Leorio decided it. You went along without questioning him.”

“I trusted his experience. Friendship is better.”

“And yet here you are, beating around the bush, asking me about being in love.”

“I don’t want to make things needlessly awkward with him by talking about this with him. I don’t want to worry him.”

“Yeah, you just want to guarantee he’s lying first and then confront him about it. If you can prove undeniably that he’s in love, then you can force him to confess, and that will make you feel better about yourself.”

“I’m not…that’s not….”

“Don’t lie. I don’t even need to listen for it. It’s all over your face.”

Kurapika ceased stammering and slumped his shoulders, walking ahead of Senritsu in a guilty, avoidant silence the rest of the way down the hall. They soon arrived to the alcove where the elevators were lined up. Kurapika pressed the button to call one to their deck and stood again at Senritsu’s side.

“I’m sorry for bothering you with these foolish things,” he apologized in a small voice.

“It’s okay to bother me,” said Senritsu. “Just don’t try to get me to do your dirty work. I’m not going to be you guys’ middleman, because then I’m going to have to be your arbiter if things start to get confused, and then I’m going to have to pick sides if they go wrong.”

The elevator dinged its arrival and opened its doors. Senritsu entered first and pressed the number for Kurapika’s deck followed by the deck nearest to Neon’s rooms. The trip for Kurapika was short, and Senritsu held the door open while directing him to leave.

“Go to bed. If you’re still up when Leorio gets back to your room, he’s going to call me, and then I’ll show up and make you sleep, do you understand? We don’t know what to expect from Dr. Moreau yet, and you need to be rested and prepared for anything. I’m telling you both as a friend and a member of your team: you have to be ready. You have to be in top form. You have to remember to rest.”

“I’ve got it,” said Kurapika, stepping out of the elevator and into the yellow glow of the narrow hall. “I don’t need you to tell me twice. I’m going.”

“Goodnight, Kurapika.”

“Goodnight,” answered Kurapika, turning to go.

“Oh wait, but one last thing,” said Senritsu before Kurapika had got very far. He stopped and turned around obediently. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Leorio. What you’re worrying about…I wouldn’t let it keep me up at night. He’s doing what he thinks is best for you. Just…I guess just keep that in mind.” She let go of the button holding the elevator door and it began to slide closed. “Anyway, goodnight,” she repeated, and the door was shut.

Kurapika remained rooted in place, watching the scallop-etched metal panels of the elevator doors and mulling over what Senritsu had said. The cold inside him abated momentarily, even as the unasked for recollection of Leorio and Neon play-acting a kiss for Neon’s applauding friends reverberated through his mind. There was a twinge of pathetic hope, though he reminded himself that Senritsu hadn’t said anything definitive enough to totally reassure him. The trailing pang of anxiety that accompanied his hope served to remind him exactly why she’d insisted on keeping her distance. She didn’t want to be responsible for his crushing disappointment if what she told him about Leorio wasn’t true, or if—worse but more likely because Senritsu was rarely wrong—what she told him was true, but Leorio made the choice to turn away regardless.

Kurapika shuffled onwards to his room, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his jacket before he reached the door. He fumbled absentmindedly with his keys, nearly dropping them. After entering his bedroom at last and changing out of his suit, he went to directly sleep as Senritsu had prescribed. He didn’t hear Leorio return, nor did he so much as turn over restlessly when a hazy sliver of light cut a line across his bed, and Leorio stuck his head into the room to check that Kurapika was there and sleeping. Leorio smiled and wished him goodnight, then muttered that on second thought it should be a good morning. Kurapika knew nothing of it and woke an hour later. Before anything else, he crept up to Leorio’s door and spent a few furtive minutes outside of it, wondering if he had any proper excuse to open it. He ended up doing nothing except listening to Leorio’s heavy breathing, right on the verge of snoring, as Leorio slumbered soundly without a care.

With a tired sigh, Kurapika pulled himself away from the door and returned to his room, wiping his eyes free of sleep and something more before opening his closet and taking down the next monotonous suit he’d wear for the new day.


	24. Bad Drunk Worse Drinks

“I heard you were mean to some kid named Fedrik Rozas.”

“I heard you’re 34 years old. This ship is full of gossip.”

“I heard you’re a mafia boss now.”

“I heard Neon doesn’t even know your full name.”

Leorio laughed and dropped another pinch of tobacco onto the paper for his next cigarette. Kurapika had already called Leorio out for bringing forth the pack of tobacco for no better reason than to avoid having to meet Kurapika’s eye. Kurapika didn’t believe it was a coincidence Leorio frequently reached for something to smoke when they were alone together. The moment a third person arrived in their midst, especially if that person was Senritsu, the cigarettes vanished.

Leorio had told Kurapika to stop taking such little things so personally; maybe Leorio was just relaxed enough around Kurapika to openly exhibit his bad habits? Kurapika doubted that. In fact, it was more likely Leorio was attempting the exact opposite. Maybe Leorio didn’t infuse his smoke with Nen, but it was nevertheless extremely effective at forcing Kurapika to keep his distance.

“I heard you paid back the Nostrade family’s auction debt in full a month ago.”

“I heard you were my Cyrano, except Neon actually found you out and dated you instead of me.”

“And I heard you’ve won the respect and support of Neon’s most powerful former clients by making a big show of buying her all the best for this trip out of your own pocket. You’ve made a statement out here at sea where Light can’t touch you. It’s you who supports Neon, and by extension it’s you who keeps the family running. Without you, the Nostrade clan would fall apart.”

“...And I heard you went around for an hour yesterday without your glasses on, and no-one recognized you, and everyone thought Neon had found a new boyfriend.”

The mound of loose tobacco swayed and thinned as strands dispersed with the force of air carrying Leorio’s snort of laughter. He pressed his face against his arm to adjust the position of his gradually slipping teashades without touching them. At the same time, his fingers extended and swept lightly over the surface of the table to collect the errant strands back into their line on the rolling paper.

“Why do you go through such a process?” asked Kurapika, affording the new cigarette a critical glance as Leorio rolled it, sealed it, and pinched it lightly between his fingers. “Is it like a preference? Or does all the extra work help relax you?”

“It’s just habit. It’s cheaper where I’m from to smoke this way. It’s also kind of key to looking the part when you’re broke. You aren’t allowed to complain too much about not having money without looking the part.”

“Do all those steps slow you down at least? You smoke less that way?”

“Not really. And this style of smoking cigarettes is actually worse for your health, so I guess that negates however much it might slow someone down.”

“Have you ever thought about quitting?”

“I don’t smoke enough to quit.”

“Then put it away right now.”

“But I’m just—”

“Put it away.”

“…Why?”

“It pollutes the air.”

“I’ve got the windows open.”

“It doesn’t all escape through the windows.”

Leorio smiled slowly. “Uh…but you didn’t care an hour ago? Or yesterday? Or ever, for that matter.”

“My patience has grown shorter since then.”

Leorio shrugged and opened the bag where he kept his tobacco. He dropped the cigarette into it and pinched the zip-seal shut before putting everything away in the drawer of the coffee table.

“So how do I entertain myself now, Kurapika?”

“You can go check on your girlfriend.”

“No, she’s going to be busy all night trying to figure out what exactly she’s going to wear tomorrow at the ball, and I’m not allowed in the room whenever she’s changing clothes. She texted a while ago to tell me she has the dress down, but she’s not sure about the hair or accessories yet. She has like ten suitcases of options with her. I probably won’t see her for a while.”

“You can go for a walk around the ship.”

“I just came back from a walk around the ship. All I ever do is walk around the ship.”

“Or you can just sit here complaining. That's fine.”

“I’m already doing that,” said Leorio. He frowned when Kurapika remained apathetic. “Are sure you’re okay, Kurapika? You’ve been moody since the meeting with Senritsu this afternoon. Is it because we’re arriving tomorrow? Are you worried about the ball? About meeting Dr. Moreau?”

“Why would that worry me? I’ve been preparing for this for months. I’m ready to do whatever needs to be done.”

“Well, it’s just because you’re finally initiating your next step, you know? It’s probably some kind of pivotal moment for you or something. Even if Dr. Moreau doesn’t have the…uh…” Leorio grumbled as he remembered the shared wall. He shushed Kurapika before Kurapika could remind him. “…Look, can we go sit in your room like during the meeting this afternoon? You said it was secure, right?”

“I’ve already moved the chairs out.”

“I’ll move one back.”

“I’m not interested in going over those topics now. That’s what the meeting was for.”

“This is different. I just want to speak clearly without guarding everything I say.”

“Don’t bother. I have to make some phone calls in a little while. I’m not done working for today. I just stepped out now for a little break.”

“You’re still working after seven? Did you actually have dinner? When Senritsu and I invited you, you were working. And now you’re working again. It’s starting to sound like this is just an excuse to lock yourself in your room and have no-one interact with you.”

“That is definitely one of the perks of work.”

“Well in that case, I’m going to ditch you to go hang out at a bar, make some friends, and charge all of our drinks to your account. That's what I'll do if you don't want me to smoke in my own cabin.”

“As long as you’ve recovered by tomorrow evening, go right ahead. I don’t care. I doubt you or fifty of your friends could drink more than I can spend in a night. You’ll die.”

Leorio was astonished. “Exactly how much money do you have?” he asked. “They say crime pays, but shit, you still have jenni to spare even now?”

“I’ve got enough to offer to buy whatever might _catch my eye_ tomorrow,” said Kurapika. He didn’t elaborate, and didn’t need to. During the meeting with Senritsu, they’d already considered the ‘let’s maybe first just try to buy the Scarlet Eyes’ contingency in full. Leorio shook his head in sustained disbelief, not certain the amount of money mafia bosses dealt with was something he could adequately comprehend.

Kurapika sat up and checked the time before rising from his armchair. He stopped at the door to his room and looked back.

“Goodnight for now, just in case you pass out in some corner of the ship and I don’t see you until tomorrow. Keep in mind that your actions reflection on Neon, but also keep in mind that if you do anything that might give her an excuse to dump you by the time all this is over, then you can go right ahead and do that. It’ll make things easier for us when we tie up the loose ends.”

“I’m hearing ‘get wasted and vomit into the piano in the VIP lounge for me, Leorio.’ Got it."

“Great,” said Kurapika and went on to his room. “Do that. Do whatever works.”

* * *

Soft piano music was exchanged for a jazz cello and clarinet duo that brought the mood of the bar up while driving a handful of patrons out as Kurapika was making his way through the door. He recognized the men on the stage as the sons of two high-ranking mafia capos. Their girlfriends at a table near the stage clapped and waved to them, while the steepest of the hunched shoulders around the bar didn’t register a single change. Kurapika searched through tallest figures dispersed throughout the murky darkness, checking for any sign of Leorio, even as he prepared to have to turn back around and continue his hunt elsewhere. The number of places to drink on board the ship was astounding when one attempted to visit them looking for someone they couldn’t, for some inexplicable reason that caused the giant’s hand of emotion to clench one’s chest tightly and painfully at the thought, just call instead.

A quick lap around the interior of the bar revealed Kurapika’s search had ended here. He smiled without thinking as he caught the incongruous sight of Leorio engrossed in a book at the edge of a wide aisle lined with standing tables and booths, as far as possible from the stage and the small crowd. He was alone where he stood, his last drink a memory in a sweating glass of melting ice parked on a damp cork coaster. The underside of his features was hazily illuminated by a reflected halo of the light collected in shifting pools on the glossy, green surface of his table. A closer look revealed he was reading a textbook. The low lamp rocked and trembled on the verge of being knocked onto the floor every time Leorio reached out to turn a page.

“Where are your fifty drinking buddies and ludicrous tab?” asked Kurapika as he came within earshot. Leorio didn’t look up, but continued to trace the line of his current paragraph with a bent index finger.

“I’m hiding from some girls Neon knows,” said Leorio. He adjusted his glasses with his free hand, bringing them down rather than up, because it was too dark to see through shaded lenses. “I’m really done with entertaining teenagers. I’m twenty-one years old, you know. I’m an adult and have been for years already. But with Neon’s friends, the difference may as well be decades. It’s weird to think about why it feels like such a huge gap when it’s only three or four years. I know married couples who are seven years apart, and it’s nothing for them. No big deal. So, does some switch or something get flipped at eighteen that magically turns you into a proto-adult? Or am I just a tired old man at the premature age of twenty-one?”

Kurapika took up Leorio’s spent drink and sniffed the glass, trying to discern what it might’ve been. “Are you drunk, Leorio?” he asked. “Are you studying to pass the time while drunk? Are you serious?”

“I’ve been hiding out here for like an hour and a half. This bar is age restricted and doesn’t let anyone under twenty in. It’s the only relatively quiet place I can escape to on this ship. They found me everywhere else. The moment they realized I was avoiding them, they made it a game to look for me. I’m pretty sure they’ve already figured out I’m in here, but luckily this place is pretty strict.”

“The doorman let me in.”

“That’s because you’re a boss.”

“They didn’t even ask my name.”

“I don’t think they need to anymore.”

Kurapika wordlessly summoned one of the anonymous dinner jackets keeping the bar and handed off Leorio’s glass. At the same time, Leorio finished the paragraph he was on and shut the textbook with a muted snap. He ordered the server to bring him a second drink, whatever was the next one listed on the cocktail menu Leorio was navigating his way down. Leorio asked if Kurapika wanted anything, but Kurapika would only take bottled water.

“I’ve been looking for you for a while, Leorio. Let’s sit,” said Kurapika, indicating an empty booth along the far wall. Kurapika took the least visible seat from the rest of the bar, since he wasn’t interested in anyone stopping to talk to him if he was recognized. Half the struggle of looking for Leorio on his own had been stopping for polite words with other bosses and mafia officers who’d seen he was alone and had wanted to take a moment express their support and remind him of their names. Kurapika had been civil with them all, but incredibly brief. By now, he was exhausted with everyone on the ship except for Leorio. He only wanted to be with Leorio, because Leorio’s company offered him the freedom to be his own taciturn, abrasive self without fear of the repercussions. Leorio was always his friend, even in the face of Kurapika’s worst.

The water arrived in a liter bottle accompanied by a tall glass and was poured for Kurapika. Leorio’s new drink was something opaque with cream in a cocktail glass. The moment Leorio saw it, he sighed and double checked the menu. Apparently it was white chocolate, which meant consuming it wouldn’t be easy for him. Alcohol, dairy, and cloying sweetness were the bane of his entire drinking career as an adult. He was beginning to doubt the logic of ordering every drink on the menu one after the other without taking stock of which options would’ve been better off skipped.

“You know what, Kurapika. You’re nineteen.”

“I’m aware.”

“In my country, you’re a full adult who can drink and smoke and drive and vote and do whatever the hell you want to do. But, you know, some countries think being twenty makes you an adult. Others think you’re an adult at eighteen. In one country I think it’s as low as _twelve_. So, I wonder if the fact that the legal age of majority for Neon and most of her friends is twenty somehow makes everyone under twenty from her country act more like kids. You’re under twenty, for example. You don’t act like a kid…for the most part.”

“The age of adulthood in my legally defined home country is fifteen.”

“Oh shit, you’re from one of those countries, then? No wonder you’re so… _you_ , I guess. No wonder you’re so bad at acting like a regular teenager.”

“Your perception of a ‘regular’ teenager is incredibly subjective, Leorio. And even in my country, it’s different, depending on if you live in the city or in the countryside. Fifteen is a compromise, because some clans have rites where you’re considered an adult around thirteen or fourteen. But, if you live in the urban areas further south and aren’t part of one of the minority groups, you effectively don’t get full rights as an adult until around seventeen. In that case, you’re only an adult in title until then. You don’t acquire the same responsibilities you would if you’d lived in a rural clan.”

“You lived in a rural clan….”

“And I’ve been what is functionally considered an adult able to take care of myself on my own in the outside world since I was twelve.”

Leorio gaped at Kurapika, not even laughing. Kurapika sighed and topped off the glass of water he'd hardly touched. He continued the explanation before Leorio could ask something stupid.

“It wasn't normal. I sort of exploited a loophole. In my village there were children and there were adults. The concept of adolescence wasn’t really fixed. Therefore, when the Elder in my clan gave me special permission to leave and travel the world when I was twelve, I couldn’t be considered as a child anymore. Without a clear precedent, people just assumed I must technically be some kind of an early adult, although traditionally, adulthood happened around fifteen or sixteen. My case was unique, and the Elder himself even attempted to sabotage me to prevent me from succeeding.”

“Twelve is still super young. You’re not Killua or Gon.”

“Indeed there was the impression the entire time, up until I actually succeeded and passed all the necessary tests, that I was merely being humored by the Elders. Even after I passed, I don’t believe it was thought I’d get very far or stay away for longer than a few months. From the beginning, my resolve has always been underestimated by those around me. If it makes you feel better, though, I haven't lived always as an adult since I was twelve. I’ve lied about my age being older or younger, depending on which was more advantageous at the time. Sometimes I don’t even remember exactly how old I am. I have to stop and think for a second to remember.”

“You’re not old enough to lose track of your age yet.”

“I’m a licensed Hunter now, so age hardly even matters anymore.”

“I’m pretty sure if you walked into a bar where you live now, they wouldn’t serve you, Hunter or no. Your license isn’t necessarily a ‘screw your laws, I do what I want’ pass.”

“Screwing the law is what being in the mafia accomplishes for me. And that’s why I can go anywhere I want on this ship, because this ship follows the rules of the mafia family that runs it.”

“Who runs it?”

“The Arrubiu family.”

“Who are they?”

“You wouldn’t know anything about them. They’re from the Sapadu Island Confederation. You probably don’t even know where that is.”

“You’re right. I don’t. And it totally doesn’t upset me, because I’m in such a good mood.”

“A good mood, yeah? How much have you had to drink?”

“Ah, well, you know…I’m just idling away the time here.”

“That’s not a quantitative response.”

“I guess maybe five. This crap here is fifth,” said Leorio, swirling the contents of the glass in front of him. He held it out to Kurapika. “Do you want this?”

“Emphatically, no.”

“Fine. Bottoms up. I’m just going to treat it how it looks, like a liquid antacid, and knock it back on the count of three.”

“One…”

“Wait, are you counting me down?”

“… _two_ …”

“Let me fish out the vanilla bean first so I don’t choke maybe.”

“…three.”

“Fuck it.”

Kurapika applauded slowly when Leorio gagged but managed not to spit the drink out. Leorio cringed audibly and hunched forward as several thick, sickly sweet liquors and a hastily stirred in layer of pink syrup at the bottom chased the thinner and colder bulk of the beverage down his throat in the most unappetizing manner imaginable. There were tears in his eyes when he looked up, and he couldn’t stop coughing.

“So what’s next?” asked Kurapika, tugging the menu free from beneath Leorio’s elbow. Leorio held his head in his hands and continued struggling to clear out the sugary, milky coating lining his abused esophagus.

“Nothing is next,” said Leorio in a raspy voice. “I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

“You have to see this through. You have two drinks left.”

“Says the clean-living asshole on the high horse who hasn’t got drunk once in his entire life.”

“I’ve tried alcohol before. I’m not against drinking.”

“Trying an alcohol filled chocolate once doesn’t count as drinking. Nor does a thimble of alcohol on Basho’s suggestion to help you sleep.”

“I felt the alcohol from what you say was a thimble. It was more like a shot.”

“You’ve never felt the alcohol the way I’m feeling it now. Or else you wouldn’t suggest two more drinks. You’d be telling me to go to bed and sleep this off before I get into trouble, because you’d understand what I’m going through. You’d have some compassion.”

“You did this to yourself, Leorio. Don’t get a tone like you’re accusing me. I just thought it’d be a shame you’d have come this far without completing your goal.”

“My goal was never to finish the menu, you idiot. My goal was just to pass the time and waste your money on frivolous cocktails I’d otherwise never have tried. Trust me. There are better ways to get drunk than…than…” Leorio searched the table a moment as if he’d lost his glass, although it was directly in front of him, and he was looking right at it, “…than this shit,” he concluded, leaning over the table and holding the glass up for Kurapika to get a good look. “I should not have even drunk this. I should’ve just pretended to knock it over and then gone back to my room. But I’m _drunk_ , so I _didn’t_. You counted me down, and my highly suggestible drunk brain went from kidding about drinking this to ‘hell yeah, let’s go’.”

“I really don’t feel like that’s my fault.”

“It kind of is if my decision making process is impaired and you’re encouraging me to hurt myself.”

“Two more drinks; that’s all. You’ve come so far. I’d hate to see your struggle wasted.”

“How many times should I repeat I wasn’t trying to complete the entire men—hey, wait, what are you looking at? Are you looking at the server? Did you just ask him for the next drink? _Kurapika I’m not drinking anything else I’m on a very precarious ledge right now._ ”

“You look fine to me.”

“Don’t act like you know. You have no idea.”

“You seem much more lucid than you’re trying to suggest you are.”

“Do you want me to be less lucid?”

“I want you to have a drink with me.”

Leorio sat upright in his seat to make room as the server set down two identical drinks on the table between him and Kurapika. Leorio observed the two glasses, perplexed and trying to discern which was which. He didn’t understand until Kurapika reached out for the drink nearest to him and pulled it towards his side of the table.

“I’ll support you in these last two,” said Kurapika.

“You have too much to do tomorrow, Kurapika. You shouldn’t really take up drinking right now, of all possible times. We can go out and drink when we get back.”

“They won’t sell alcohol to me in the city. I’m underage in that country.”

“Then come to my country. They’ll sell you everything there. Just take two days off.”

“I won’t have time to take off after tomorrow. And once the whole trip for this ball is finished, I’m going to be so busy you won’t even see me anymore. I won’t have time for you, or Gon and Killua, or anyone. Remember how it was in September?”

“I remember, yeah. That means what you’re also saying is that I’m only ever going to hear from you the moment my presence is convenient again. Am I right?”

“I was going to say until I’ve finished my search for everything I’m looking for…but I understand how, based on past experience, what you said sounds more accurate.”

“Huh. You know, it’s getting a little tiring feeling like nothing but resource held in reserve.”

“You’re not just a resource to me. That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“It’s a terrible way to feel.”

“Leorio….”

“Forget I said that. Let’s hurry up and drink whatever this is. I suddenly don’t feel like I’ve drunk enough.”

Leorio took the glass and lifted it in a one-sided toast before taking a generous gulp that drained it by half. Kurapika tilted his own glass hesitantly and followed suit with a smaller, much more conservative sip.

“The hell is in this?” asked Leorio, pulling the drink away. He inspected the glass like the answer to his question might be written there. “Tastes like someone thinned out a cup of sour stainberry juice with three types of alcohol and a powdered sport drink flavored ‘radical blue raspberry’.”

Kurapika sputtered and sprayed the edge of the table in front of him as a snort of laughter escaped. He’d been caught off guard by the aptness of Leorio’s miserable description of the exact flavor sensation happening in his own mouth. Leorio rolled his eyes at him and moved his textbook off the table and onto the bench.

“Dammit, Kurapika, you aren’t even drunk yet. And you’re never going to be if you spit half the drink out.”

“Don’t joke so much.”

“But it’s one of my amazingly useful features worth keeping me around for.”

“Turn that feature off, then.”

“But then you’ll have to put up with how I actually am.”

“How are you actually?”

“Dead serious.”

“Were you being serious when you said I treated you like a resource?”

“You have to ask?”

“I don’t treat you like—”

“You wouldn’t know me otherwise if I hadn’t been useful to you. That was the nature of the circumstances under which we met, and a theme in the way we’ve related to each other ever since.”

“No, I don’t think that’s—”

“I act like I don’t know why you helped me in the Hunter Exam, but that’s only because I’m trying to get you to admit the truth. You knew I was Tonpa’s target even before the hunting phase of the exam began. You even told me that, remember? You said you saw him look at me when it was revealed that the numbers were players we'd be hunting. You looked at Tonpa, and Tonpa was looking right at me….”

“I don’t see what this has to do with—”

“When we were planning how to catch…um, _Sommy_ …you said it was hard to sneak up on him because his trained monkey was patrolling. I realized then that you probably started tracking me instead of Tonpa after the guy joined up with Sommy, because you knew Tonpa would come after me. If I hadn’t so usefully happened to be the target of your target, I probably wouldn’t have seen you once during the entire phase.”

“That was only a coincidence. Please. I probably would’ve helped you anyway if I’d run into you in some other way, for some other reason.”

“After the exam you joined Gon and I to save Killua…”

“See? That’s a good point how  _un_ selfish I was whe—”

“…probably because you felt guilty about how the exam had ended. Maybe you felt you’d got off too easy with Hisoka throwing your fight. Maybe you felt indebted to us because you saw you wouldn’t have passed the exam alone. Maybe you just wanted the challenge? Or maybe you were just high on the relief that you’d accomplished the first step in your big plan. Either way, we both know our choice to help Killua had way more to do with Gon than anything else.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m only friends with you because it’s useful for me. I would’ve gone my own way right after the exam if I were only interested in my own goals.”

“And after all that, in case you forgot, you originally only agreed to meet up with Gon and Killua in September because they had information about the Phantom Troupe. That was the only reason you made any time to see them.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have met up with them later. That’s just how things happened. I’m not going to apologize for something that wasn’t my fault. None of this stuff you’re saying is my fault. It’s all just the way things turned out. It was chance.”

“And then you got Senritsu to tell me you needed someone to help you learn how to date. Before that, you rarely answered my calls, you never considered returning a call, and you never ever hinted at meeting me in person, though you knew I could easily make the trip if you asked. You had nothing to say for disappearing, either; never attempting any sort of explanation other than that you were busy, not even offering an apology even to be polite. I don’t even think you noticed when I stopped trying to reach you more than once a week.”

“I saw you called every Monday at 7pm.”

“I thought maybe if I was consistent, you could make time.”

“I saw that. I respected that. I answered when I could.”

“Less than five minutes. ‘Hi. Are you okay? Everything fine? Still studying? Good. I have to go. Bye.’ Basically that was it. Four times.”

“But I answered. There just wasn’t anything to say. I’m not good at phone calls just to chat. You don’t know my job, and I’m not going to ask you about medicine. What were we supposed to talk about for longer than a few minutes?”

“I don’t know. I honestly can’t think of anything off the top of my head. But like, look at us talking now, or these past weeks. We have stuff to talk about. It’s just like, if you stick a phone between us, suddenly we’re both just ‘fine, good, okay, see you later then’ and that’s it. Isn’t that kind of…I dunno, sad? Boring? Awful? Like…why even try? Why do I even try? Because it feels like I’m the only one who does.”

Kurapika had no answer. If this were a problem that could be resolved over a drunkenly persistent, far too personal conversation across a table in a bar, it wouldn’t have gone on so long in the first place. Instead of solving anything or continuing to argue with Leorio who wasn’t even listening, Kurapika finished his unappetizingly warm drink and got the attention of the server. The condensation along the side of the glass nearly caused it to slip from between his fingers, though he caught the base in time to save it. Leorio smirked and repeated Kurapika wasn’t that drunk yet. He had no excuse to be breaking things.

The server arrived after a small eternity with two final, amber colored drinks. Kurapika scrutinized the contents against the light of the dim table lamp while Leorio, jumping the gun without even a toast, tried it and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good, it’s more rum than sugar. There’s no visible fruit floating in it. No goopy mess on the bottom. No dairy. So simple. So refreshing. You have no idea what I’ve been through for the past hour and half.”

“It tastes like fumes.”

“Pfft. You don’t know anything. All you taste is the alcohol.”

“I guess it smells okay. Like limes and rum. Drinking it is more of a burning sensation than any discernible flavor, though. It’s a bit sweet.”

Leorio just laughed at Kurapika and drank his cocktail much too quickly. Kurapika didn’t believe Leorio was relishing his drink, more as he was racing to get it down. Kurapika didn’t like the tone of the laughter that had precluded it. Leorio knew something he didn’t.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Leorio.”

“Seriously. I’m just…you know. Thinking.”

“What are you thinking?”

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry. Here, I’ll pour you a glass of water. Do you know how expensive this water is? It’s ridiculous. It’s from like an aquifer beneath the highest mountains in the world or something like that. It’s like a ten-thousand year old glacier, virtually untouched since some ice age. I think.”

“I want to know what’s funny. Maybe you should pour yourself some water, as well.”

“I should, but I haven’t got a glass.”

“What were you laughing at?”

“Only what I imagine will be the look on your face when you feel that drink. Since you’ve shown up, I swear they’re making them stronger. If you don’t feel it now, then as soon as you get up you will.”

Kurapika crossed his arms over the table and stared at the empty glass before him. He’d nervously drunk it all almost as fast as Leorio had finished his. He hadn’t known what else to do, and there hadn’t been that much of it to linger over and take his time with. A punched-up (according to Leorio; Kurapika hadn’t been able to tell) daiquiri wasn’t like a glass of water to sip on absently during a conversation. But, he’d subconsciously kept pace with Leorio, who was drunk and irresponsible, and it was only evident now, too late. It made Kurapika a little afraid as he waited for the result that was already starting within him.

“Am I going to be able to get back to my room?”

“Yes. You only had two drinks.”

“Are you sure? I’m beginning to feel light-headed.”

“You could just be worrying too much. Overthinking. Don’t worry about it. You’re fine. Hell, you’ll probably have to help me get back.”

“How will we get back if we’re both drunk?”

“We aren’t. You are. I mean you aren’t. I mean you’re not drunk.”

“What?”

“I mean maybe we should go.”

Leorio patted the seat next to him to find his textbook and then stood. There was a waver in his step, as though he needed to carefully consider his choice every time he extended a leg, in order to maintain his balance by sheer force of will. Kurapika sighed and got up from the table as well. He finally understood what Leorio had said about standing aggravating the sensation of what Kurapika could only presume was his inebriation. The bar seemed to shift around him, growing larger, even though it felt as if he’d crossed most of it in three strides. Familiar landmarks came up too soon, and it was hard to tell if he was the one leading Leorio at his side, or if Leorio was leading him. Nevertheless they made it to the door and out, together. At some point they’d interlaced their arms, Kurapika’s left to Leorio’s right, and Kurapika was holding Leorio’s textbook for him because Leorio had dropped it twice. Kurapika prayed Leorio wouldn’t trip or fall next, because he didn’t feel he was capable of arresting their shared descent. They’d go down together, straight to the floor, and Kurapika cringed at the thought of what words would go around the ship if he succeeded in making that much of a fool of himself in public.

As they passed one of ten hundred thousand lounges on board, Leorio was stopped by a group of teens Kurapika recognized but couldn’t identify in a swarm. Kurapika pulled Leorio along, away from them, completely ignoring anything they said. Leorio resisted. In a huff of exasperation, Kurapika ceased pulling on Leorio’s arm and rounded on the smiling teenagers himself.

“Get away from us,” said Kurapika sharply. “Right now. Turn around and walk away. I want nothing to do with any of you. Can’t you see he’s drunk and useless now?”

In a complete reversal of their manner with Leorio, the teenagers didn’t argue with Kurapika. Once they recognized him, they all but ran the other direction to escape. Their fathers and friends and Fedrik Rozas had already warned them that speaking to Kurapika was a bad idea. Kurapika was a teenager as well, but he demanded the respect of a capo over twice his age. It wasn’t worth it for anyone to get too familiar and deny Kurapika that respect, foolishly presuming that because he was their age he could be related to as a peer. The important thing was to simply shut up and do what he demanded.

The group of teens left, and Kurapika didn’t care in what direction or to where. Oddly enough, however, he felt that yelling at them had begun to sober him up a little. He led Leorio onwards deliberately, almost too energetically perhaps, spotting Leorio’s every step as if Leorio were prone to collapse at any moment without warning. Leorio pushed him away for being patronizing, but Kurapika looped round to Leorio’s other side to support him anew. They made it all the way to their cabin without incident, though Kurapika had needed to kick Leorio hard in the shin to keep him from falling asleep against him in the elevator. Leorio claimed to be resting his eyes. Kurapika called him a liar and told him to wait a few minutes; they were almost home. Leorio snickered because Kurapika had called the cabin “home”. He muttered that Kurapika was drunk, wasn’t he, convincing Kurapika that Leorio had lost track of the narrative he was operating under and was unable to remember whether Kurapika was supposed to be drunk or not right now.

“We’re almost there, just a few more steps,” said Kurapika after Leorio made an attempt for the couch when Kurapika let him go so he could lock the cabin door behind them. Kurapika swept Leorio up before he could lie down and get too comfortable. He dragged and coaxed Leorio’s cumbersome, unwilling weight along to Leorio’s bedroom, depositing him at the foot of the bed and ordering him to take his shoes off before he crawled pathetically beneath the blankets to sleep. Kurapika left to bring a few bottles of water from the minibar, since he’d read somewhere once that most of the suffering induced by a hangover was caused by dehydration. He also made sure to pull down all the blinds in Leorio’s room, since he’d also read that people with hangovers couldn’t stand too much light.

“Take those glasses off, too, before you sleep, or you’ll break them, and no-one’s going to recognize you ever again.”

“You keep saying stuff like that, about no-one recognizing me, but you really mean you prefer me with the glasses, don’t you? Hm? Don’t you? Don’t be shy. Admit you dig this look.”

Leorio sat up and let the glasses hang skewed at an angle over his face, nearly tumbling off his nose. With his ruffled hair, he looked like a mad eccentric; a scientist who kept a cat and practiced computational engineering as a relaxing hobby, or the caricature of a pianist Kurapika had seen once on a poster outside a concert hall. And that was it. There wasn’t much Kurapika associated outrageously useless teashades with besides Leorio. Ultimately, Leorio just looked like himself, except drunk and falling to pieces.

“You look stupid,” said Kurapika, going with a classic response to any question he’d ever been asked concerning Leorio’s appearance.

“Stupidly awesome, you mean.”

“Awesomely stupid.”

“Ah. And here I was hoping a drink would help you loosen up and be less of a jerk. Those hopes were in vain. You’ve dashed my hopes.”

“Whatever. I like your look, okay, even though it makes no sense whatsoever. I guess the glasses add character. You’re hardly you without them. It’s actually feels sort of irritating to me when you don’t wear them. It feels like something’s missing.”

“Then I guess I’m never taking them off ever again.”

“You’d better right now, or you’ll break them.”

“As you say,” said Leorio and reached up to slip the teashades off. He fumbled and missed, knocking them off his face and into the folds of the blanket he’d already untucked before he’d moved to sit at the head of the bed. “Oops,” he muttered and looked for them, disproportionally disoriented by such a small hiccup.

To Leorio’s drunken credit, the teashades had fallen between the bunched ridges of fabric, which for him meant they’d mysteriously disappeared from existence. He wasn’t coordinated enough to look for them by their glimmer in the light of the bedside lamp, so he took the blanket by the edges and lifted it until it hung straight and smooth, allowing the teashades to tumble down its length. Kurapika leaned over the bed, resting his knee on the edge as he leaned forward to grab the teashades and hand them to Leorio. Leorio, unaware that Kurapika was helping him, moved forward at the same time. They collided before Leorio knew there was even an obstacle, though it was partly Kurapika’s fault because he hadn't said anything, and the suit he incessantly wore operated like camouflage in the half-dark room. They knocked heads painfully where they met, with Kurapika taking the harder blow and jumping away with enough energy to send him sprawling on his back into the bed, where lost his balance and rolled over.

“Ow. Shit,” hissed Kurapika angrily at the pain. He brought his hand up to massage the aching point of his skull in a circular motion. “Watch it, you idiot.”

“Damn. Sorry,” said Leorio. He bent to inspect the side of Kurapika’s head, though they both knew perfectly well Kurapika was fine, and also, that Leorio was only going through the polite motions of caring to have a look. Leorio was for all intents blind, as the communication between his fuzzy vision and his fuzzy brain suffered a notable lag. All he saw was blond hair and the shell-like shape of an ear. A second later he didn’t know what he was looking at, because everything was far too close, and Kurapika was kissing him.

In short time, because everything was still going at a drunken fast forward, Kurapika was no longer merely kissing Leorio, but was sitting up and pushing Leorio onto his back into the bed. Leorio’s reaction wasn’t his best, as his instinctive response, coded into the muscle memory of his face and his mouth, was to kiss Kurapika and follow his lead. Leorio’s lethargic, thinking brain gradually began to realize that this wasn’t a good idea, but the thought and the action weren’t in sync. As his impulse and his sense of control worked themselves out, Kurapika had plenty of time to set the teashades safely on the nightstand, bury a free hand in Leorio’s tousled hair, and start kissing him with greater persistence.

For some unknowable reason, Kurapika himself paused and pulled away a moment later. He was struck with a sudden, sickening awareness of what exactly he was doing. He looked down at Leorio’s face beneath him, and the sight of it caused his chest to ache and his heart to race in panic. Kurapika had overstepped. Something was about to go wrong, if not now, then tomorrow when Leorio sobered up and realized Kurapika wasn't truly enforcing the proper time and distance between them. 

Leorio drowsily opened his eyes as the pause lengthened, his gaze warm and something akin to understanding, though definitely out of focus. He was able to speak at last, and it was guaranteed to be nothing Kurapika wanted to hear.

“You’re not this drunk, Kurapika.”

“What do you know?”

“I’m pretty sure this constitutes taking advantage of me.”

“You wouldn’t kiss me otherwise.”

“And now I've just gone from pretty sure to absolutely sure.”

“I just want to kiss you; that’s all.”

“Ha ha, that I’ve heard before, and from my own mouth to a girl because I was worried she’d leave me alone if I confessed the full details of absolutely everything I wanted. And what I really meant was ‘I’ll settle for kissing right now so long as it means you stay and we can see what happens’.”

“I’m…I’m not thinking that far ahead, I swear.”

“I believe you. You don’t think you’re thinking that.”

“Well, I guess now I am, though.”

“Good luck with it. I’ve had too much to drink, so…. Well, and we’re friends, you know. Friends don’t do this.”

“I know. But maybe I can’t just be friends right now. Maybe I can’t ever just be friends. It’s ruined.”

“No, no. You’re feeling the alcohol, and the alcohol makes you feel down like the end of the world. You’ll be better maybe in an hour.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not. It’s true. I never got better after I told you I liked you. I just got worse. I’m the worst.”

“No, I’m the worst. Look. I got you into it. You were fine before it. All the stupid things weren’t in your head yet. Now you’re suffering it, and you wouldn’t suffer if I weren’t selfish, pretending I could take you on silly dates and not have anything come out of it.”

“The stupid things were already there before, but I didn’t recognize them.”

“You say that. You feel guilty about that I liked you first, so you say that. Or you think me liking you so long already invalidates your feelings that are new. Something. So that’s what you say now.”

“Are you saying I’m making this up? I don’t really understand what you’re trying to say, Leorio. I think you’re too drunk for this kind of conversation.”

“Yes. And yes. To both of that.”

Kurapika pushed himself up, off of Leorio, and rolled over to lay in the bed next to him. Leorio didn’t reach for him or make any gesture that could reassure Kurapika that he at least partially missed the contact of a moment before. Kurapika felt the taste of alcohol and sweetness in the back of his throat, his two drinks the only two things occupying his stomach. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to throw up because of that, or because he feared this was possibly the last time he’d get anywhere near Leorio, or speak so openly with him about all the painful and confusing things he felt. It was his last chance to salvage some sense of closure from this, some narrative to repeat to himself to accept whatever form of loss was bound to occur.

…Because there was no chance Kurapika was leaving this room without losing something. If he pressed his feelings on Leorio, he could lose a friend. If he focused on sacrificing his fantastic, naïve, but unrelenting vision of some improbable future with Leorio, then he’d lose the rush of intoxicating joy those thoughts gave him when they crept across his mind and interfered with ability to concentrate on anything else. The logical choice was to give up the drug of imagined scenarios and “what if” questions he knew the harsh answer to already. He needed to stop clinging to the illusion that just because he liked someone and they liked him back, it was going to work out.

“I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. I’ve thought about my feelings a lot more than you think,” said Kurapika at last into the space above, watching the ceiling and not the person beside him. Leorio’s breathing was deep, making it hard to guess if he was still fully awake. Kurapika didn’t turn his head to check. It might be better if Leorio were asleep for this anyway.

“I’m not making something up. I’ve always been aware of everything about you, every detail, everything you’ve ever said. I often run out of things to say to you, because I never need to ask you the same question twice, because I always remember what you said. I even notice it when you call and you say you’re fine in a way that means you can’t think of anything to say, and then when you say you’re fine as a courtesy because you know I never have time to talk at length, so you’re not going to waste my time. I go ask Senritsu how you’re doing later, and then she tells me for you.”

“Ah, so we both bother Senritsu, then…” said Leorio sleepily. Kurapika smiled and nodded, unseen.

“Yeah. And she always complains that I need to stop using her as a personal liaison, that you would meet me if I asked, but…I dunno. I felt embarrassed rarely talking to you and then suddenly changing that. It’s not like how you said, that I don’t contact you except when I need you. It’s more I shouldn’t contact you for no reason. I need an excuse.” Kurapika chuckled softly to himself and rested his hands over his stomach in a forced effort to appear casual. “And since I don’t want to bother you so much already, why would I fall in love with you? That’s the most bothersome thing a person can do to someone.”

“Really, Kurapika….”

“Anyway, I’m thinking that it’s not fair you decide everything between us because you know better. So, I’m not letting you take me on a date when we return from this trip. I’m done with your dates and your decisions.”

“That makes sense. You said you’d be too busy. It’s probably for better. I kinda hoped you would accept a last date, but I’m selfish. I had selfish reasons to offer it. I’m sorry.”

“No, look; I’m going to take you on a date. Okay? It can be my final exam, right? We should see if you’re worth anything as a teacher.”

“What?”

“Do you accept? I’m inviting you now. You can turn me down if you’d like.”

Leorio turned onto his side to look at Kurapika. Kurapika tried not to catch any glimpse of Leorio’s bemused expression. The only thing he could tell was that Leorio wasn’t smiling.

“I…I don’t know?”

“Yes or no. There isn’t anything to know.”

“I mean that I’ve…this is gonna sound stupid but…I’ve never been asked on a date?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s just not a thing that’s happened.”

“Well, I'm asking you now. How about you decide.”

Kurapika held his breath as Leorio reached out to brush the hair from Kurapika’s eyes before taking his chin and turning his face towards him.

“Like look at me when you ask. Not looking in the eye shows you aren’t confident, and the other person might think that’s unattractive and decline. It isn’t a good sign if you’re a coward from the start, especially if you try to look too cool. When you act like you don’t care, that it’s all the same to you…people believe it.”

“Has this become another lesson now?”

“You have to get it right.”

Kurapika laughed nervously as he looked Leorio in the face, moderately reassured in the knowledge that Leorio saw him out of focus and unsteadily. Leorio’s eyes were too wide, trying too hard. Kurapika took a deep breath and didn’t bother to come up with an elegant way to ask.

“Do you want to go on a date with me? I haven’t got a day or a time, but I’ll figure something out if you say yes.”

“Sure.”

“Yes or no. Sure isn’t good enough. You have to agree, not just go along.”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll be in touch,” said Kurapika. He reached up to remove the fingers still holding his chin, and then pulled himself up so he could slide out of the bed. “I’ll put your briefcase next to the bed here in case you need anything from it in the morning. I imagine you’ll have a pretty bad headache.”

“Thanks,” said Leorio. He didn’t turn around as Kurapika took the briefcase from the closest and set it against the nightstand. His arm remained outstretched where Kurapika had placed it after removing the hand from his face. He was frozen as Kurapika had left him, still caught in the moment when Kurapika had been alongside him. There wasn’t anywhere else he cared to go.

“Goodnight,” said Kurapika. Leorio didn’t answer. Kurapika assumed he’d finally drifted to sleep and didn’t repeat himself. He switched off the light and left the bedroom, only losing his balance once and thudding into the wall on his way back to his own room, where he locked the door behind him and then collapsed onto his bed still fully dressed.


	25. The Island of Dr. Moreau

Beneath Dr. Moreau’s mansion was a treasure trove of macabre trophies accumulated over the span of five long decades. After the first hour amid the endless rooms of emotively lit displays, the horror Kurapika had choked down gradually transformed into a ordinary boredom. Hall after mausoleum-like hall began to blur, and his mental inventory of everything Dr. Moreau owned trailed off without completing itself. As the second hour of the tour crept past, he was doing little more than seeking out a familiar glow of red in the face of every distant display case and waiting impatiently for someone in their party to mention eyes.

Even Neon, the most outwardly enthusiastic guest present, inevitably grew overwhelmed by the quantity, and only demonstrated particular interest towards items that were truly rare or exemplary specimens. Whenever she spied something that intrigued her, however, she’d immediately let out a small gasp and grab Kurapika by the arm to pull him in with her for a closer look. Of all seven of the collectors present, Neon was the most energetic. The others smiled at her when her eyes lit up and she rushed after something fine or unexpected. Occasionally, they gave her their own tidbits of information about pieces, where the items had come from, how they were commonly procured. In a way, everyone seemed to be guiding Neon on the tour of Dr. Moreau’s collection themselves, while Dr. Moreau oversaw them all and smiled. Whether they did this because Neon’s passion endeared her to them, or because it made the trip more interesting, Kurapika couldn’t entirely tell.

By Kurapika’s admittedly exaggerated estimation, Dr. Moreau’s home contained the preserved remains of up to forty-eight thousand individuals. There were traces of residual Nen on about a quarter of these pieces, though it was impossible to say if the Nen had originated from the host, the person who’d procured it, or another source entirely. At any rate, Kurapika made certain to look over every item before allowing Neon to get close. At one point Dr. Moreau praised him for his excellent attention to detail after he held Neon back from a set of canopic jars. She pointed out a row of arrows traced in blood and ink on the face of the furthest jar indicating that it was cursed, and said that anyone who touched it would die within a year of a demonic disease. The cat-eyed creature perched atop the jar had looked at Kurapika directly as he’d passed, and it’d snarled when it’d realized he could see it. Neon lamented the fact that this cursed jar was the most beautiful of the set, and Dr. Moreau smiled, always smiling, and said something about that being the point.

There was still no sign of Scarlet Eyes as the group neared the further, sparser rooms that Dr. Moreau regretfully informed them were the end of the collection. Her newest acquisitions were held in vaults for security, because, like the jars, they were often cursed, especially now that she’d become interested in religious artifacts and things created from human remains according to the death rites of the world’s diverse cultures. The other collectors nodded knowingly at this, even Neon, who said she usually preferred celebrity souvenirs and medical curiosities in order to avoid bad luck.

At long last, and a total of nearly four hours conducting their slow, appreciative stroll through the halls of grotesque treasures, Dr. Moreau announced the tour had ended and gave her guests permission to do as they pleased, either continuing to examine her collection, or rejoining the party upstairs. Neon chose to look around a little longer, and Dr. Moreau said in jest that Neon’s date was going to feel neglected without her. Neon claimed it didn’t matter; she’d stand Leorio up the entire ball if she wanted. Boys could be replaced, but seeing the pickled, hooked-shaped ear of a Norese dwarf was a once in a lifetime opportunity. One of the five others touring the collection asked in his thin, airy voice if the ear was still edible, and Dr. Moreau guaranteed it was. She’d got hers from a friend who, as a lifelong practitioner of Norese medicine, consumed one every three years for longevity. The man then offered to buy the supplier’s information from her, and the two stepped away into a side room to negotiate, followed by three other interested guests. The last guest who remained with Neon and Kurapika went upstairs after remarking to them that the collection here was immense, but not the most gripping he’d ever seen. There simply wasn’t enough bone furniture or leathered skins to make it outstanding.

“Isn’t all this just so inspiring? This a dream collection,” said Neon as she and Kurapika strolled arm-in-arm down a long corridor where the walls were hung with what Kurapika considered to be more than enough leathered skins for his taste.

“It certainly does inspire a kind of awe.”

Neon laughed and punched Kurapika lightly on the arm. “Don’t be so down, Kurapika. I’m sure you’ll get to start your own collection someday. Not everything is as prohibitively expensive as what I buy on the flesh collecting market. There’s cheaper stuff from celebrities, so you could always start a collection with hair and fingernails.”

“You mean fingernail clippings?”

“No. You might as well get someone to sneak into the person’s house and steal their bathroom wastebaskets for that. It’s worthless. I mean full fingernails.”

“Who’s so desperate that they’ll give up a whole fingernail?”

“Well, to be honest, people don’t always choose. The artist Mendi was drugged in a private club and woke up to find all the nails from his fingers and toes had been ripped off. I think they took a few teeth, too.”

“In the news report on that they said he was tortured by the mafia because of a debt he owed them. He got an infection in the hospital and died two months later.”

“Ah, well in that case, he really should’ve paid back the debt,” said Neon confidently, like this was a fair and deserved punishment now that Kurapika had told her the full story. “It’s his own fault. But dying made his remains way more valuable. You’d have been able to afford them, though.”

“I wouldn’t have bought them.”

“Oh yeah, because you think celebrities are boring.”

“That isn’t the reason. I’m simply not interested in items that were stolen from their owners.”

“That’s understandable. I get where you’re coming from, really; you’re still new to this. Let me give you some advice, okay? You and I have barely got any time alone to talk about flesh collecting, and really, Kurapika, that’s a shame, because I’m your best resource. I can really help you get the most out of this new hobby. Whatever questions you have, ask me. Chances are, I’ve been there. You’re not alone.”

“I…uh, thanks…I guess,” said Kurapika. There was no point turning down the offer if he was supposed to be truly interested in flesh collecting. It was crucial he put his personal feelings aside, conceal his true intentions, and openly transform himself into one of the human-shaped monsters he’d spent the last four hours of his life strolling idly in the company of.

“First things first,” said Neon, embracing her new role in their relationship immediately. “You need to accept that, sometimes, taking stuff people don’t want to give up is the only way to get something great. Waiting around for people to die takes ages. And like, people wear out when they get old, anyways. They get ugly, too. It’s just a fact of life that some people are worth more preserved than they’d ever have been alive and contributing to society through work or whatever else.”

Kurapika didn’t respond straightaway, but altered their course to bring them closer to the next, particularly large, human skin and pointed.

“Is this even a person to you?” he demanded.

Neon laughed. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “Of course it has to be a person. All this stuff is human.”

“When you look at this _stuff_ , though, do you see people in it? Actual people who lived and died and this is all that’s left?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Really? With the same humanity as a person you on pass the street? Someone like you, or me, or your friends?”

Neon laughed and pulled Kurapika away from the skin and back towards the glittering archway the led to the next room.

“Are you trying to say, Kurapika, that every person in the street is a human being to you?” asked Neon. Her eyes twinkled mirthfully. “Because to me that sounds exhausting. It’s not even possible. There’s way too many people for you to see all of them as distinct individuals. They’re endless, and there’s nothing remotely special about any of them.” Neon made a sweeping gesture to the long hall behind them. “These things here, however, _are_ special. This scalp over here, for example, is more of an individual to me than anyone I’ve ever passed in the street.”

“But what if someone put pieces of you in these boxes and jars?”

“They wouldn’t. I’m boring.”

“What if you got some illness that made you valuable?”

“Then I’d die, and I won’t care anymore what happens to my body.”

“What if the illness were curable, but you were murdered so someone else could have a sample of it?”

“Oh, Kurapika, please. The empathy arguments…you sound just like my dad when I first told him I wanted knuckle horns at the auction in Galentani City when I was ten. He didn’t get it then, and he still doesn’t now. But, I know that in your case, unlike his, you’re just asking because you’re nervous. And believe me: It’s natural to be nervous.”

“I’m nervous? About what?”

“You haven’t started seriously collecting yet, so, you don’t know what you like.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re wondering—as everyone kind of does at first, I promise, even me, believe or not—if liking certain stuff more than others makes you, well… _weird_. I mean, we’re already weirdos for being interested in collecting this stuff. Maybe at the end of the day, you’ll play it safe and just stick with fossils and artifacts because that stuff’s more normal-ish. Museums show off those kinds of things all the time, so it feels less creepy. But like, it’s still okay if you like things that look more human, or things that are sort of ‘fresh’, as we say. Although my own collection is bit of an uncoordinated heap right now, I like to think I’m leaning more towards medical anomalies, and those are often preserved wet. Other people like tribal tattoos or unique body modifications, which can be dried. But in the end, you really have to find what speaks to you. Everyone’s different. Taste itself changes over time.”

“I suppose,” said Kurapika as they passed from the hall of skins to the next, which was devoted to tools and wigs and miscellaneous objects fashioned from human bone. Neon led the way to her favorite piece; a set of china made of bone ash. No-one in the initial tour had been able to guess how many individuals the extensive set had taken to complete. Kurapika had left it out of his mental tally of exactly how many people the total collection averaged per room.

“All that said, though, I like to think I can predict what someone likes even before I see their collection,” said Neon. “Maybe I can even guess what you’ll like, even though you don’t have one yet?”

“Sure,” said Kurapika with a sigh. “What do you think I’m going to like?”

Neon cheered and moved to stand in front of Kurapika. She placed both hands on his shoulders and stared directly into his eyes, as though trying to read something inside them through his pupils. Kurapika struggled to keep his gazed fixed on hers, suddenly worried she might somehow discover too much.

“Tragic and beautiful things,” said Neon thoughtfully, “which is ironic, because you’re the one trying to lecture me about how morally offensive it is to murder people to obtain specimens. But, I’ll bet the fact that someone had to die for some beautiful object is what you find makes it more interesting.”

“H-how can you know that?”

“Because that’s why you keep asking about individuals and people and humanity. You care about the story almost as much as the item. And like, hey, you’re not alone. Some items are worth a lot because they’re exactly like that, you know. Because they have great history. Remember in the other room, the hand of the little girl all smooth and patterned like crackle glaze? You didn’t like it when you saw it, but as soon as Mr. Scien told us about the curse-woman in the mountain who kisses people and the skin gets like that, you were way more intrigued. With the story mixed in, it wasn’t just a pretty hand anymore. You’re really picky like that. People like you are the pickiest ever. But you have to be careful, because sometimes people invent history so that collectors like you get interested.”

“Thanks for the warning,” said Kurapika. He stepped to the side, freeing himself from Neon’s grasp. Neon moved to let him pass her. “Not much of Dr. Moreau’s collection is very beautiful.”

“I know. That’s probably why you’ve been so bored this whole time,” said Neon, walking and keeping just a little behind him as they made their way between the long shelves of bone china. “Dr. Moreau likes limited things. Exclusivity. She’s like a dragon in a movie on a fat pile of gold, keeping all the rarest treasures to herself.”

“Don’t be so hard on me for it, Miss Nostrade,” said a cheerful voice behind them. Neon and Kurapika stopped and turned to face Dr. Moreau. “Many of my items are one of a kind, and this facility is the safest place in the world to keep them and protect them. I’m preserving them.”

Kurapika took Neon’s arm protectively as Dr. Moreau got to closer. Dr. Moreau only laughed and said he was adorable. She predicted it was going to be hard for Neon to choose between him and whoever her forgotten date upstairs happened to be.

“I don’t think I even need to ask if you’ve liked seeing my collection,” said Dr. Moreau to Neon. “What’s your favorite piece? Or, your top three, if you can’t pick just one?”

Neon leapt excitedly at the chance to share, and broke into a string of effusive compliments on the breadth and magnificence of Dr. Moreau’s never-ending assortment of items. Kurapika remained at her elbow, watching Dr. Moreau closely, though little about her was threatening in person. She looked like a kindly grandmother, except she dressed more fashionably than any grandmother Kurapika had ever seen. Kurapika would’ve never assumed this woman held such sway in the underground markets, or possessed such a morbid and vast collection of human flesh. He recognized in her the haunting truth that you couldn’t always tell a monster, a flesh collector, from a true human being.

Dr. Moreau asked the two to follow her to a sitting room just off one of the main exhibit halls. She wanted to invite them to a cup tea, she explained, as a full service was wheeled out in the same instant on a cart. Kurapika found this odd, since it must’ve been two in the morning already, but he went to sit with Neon and Dr. Moreau on  the room’s long, crescent-shaped couch anyway. Even if the hour hadn’t been so late, he still would’ve felt the same unease. The last thing he wanted was to put something in his stomach after witnessing the horror that still loomed just outside the sitting room door.

“I’d like to offer condolences for the unspeakable tragedy that you suffered in York Shin,” said Dr. Moreau as tea and cakes were set on the table the couch wrapped three quarters of the way around. “The community losing so many people, and on top of that, your beautiful Scarlet Eyes were stolen. What a shame.”

Kurapika gripped the teacup in his hand tighter and kept his gaze averted. With a turn of his stomach, he wondered what sort of china he was holding before realizing that yes, it was indeed from the same set he’d seen outside. He suppressed a grimace and stoically sipped the tea he’d been offered. Neon noticed him inspecting the cup and looked more closely at her own. She gasped in awe instead of revulsion when she came to the same realization. Meanwhile, Dr. Moreau eyes shone on them with a warm smile, like she’d just given them a terrific treat.

“I’ve been told you’re interested in flesh collecting, Kurapika,” said Dr. Moreau kindly, as if she were asking about the field he wished to study at school, or a job he was applying for in another city. “I’ve heard you’ve managed to acquire a few items for Neon already, which is impressive for someone your age. Have you thought about any pieces on the market you might like to get started with? There’s a lot of exciting options coming up for sale soon. Master Em—the famous, anonymous collector in Amaltra, I’m not sure you’ve heard of him yet—he’s putting up a whole quarter of his human library for sale. There’s a wonderful grimoire in concertina format that I have my eye on currently. Miss Nostrade told me you like books.”

“I like to read,” Kurapika clarified.

“Then you’ll need to brush up on your Ancient Amaltran. It’s nearly impossible to find human vellum written on in any other language.”

“Is that so.”

Neon laughed and pinched Kurapika on the arm, telling him to stop joking around. No-one bought books in human vellum to actually read them, even if he somehow did happen to know a little Ancient Amaltran. She told Dr. Moreau that Kurapika was a weird sort of scholar, always studying facts and dead languages. He was easily one of her smartest bodyguards, at least when it came to books. Socially, he was inept. That was why Neon had decided to dump him.

“I always say people themselves are worth a lot less than the sum of their parts,” said Dr. Moreau. “When all you care about are the bits and pieces, it’s hard to see the whole as anything that matters.”

“Exactly,” said Neon. Kurapika struggled to keep his expression blank when all he wished to do was shoot Neon a withering, side-eyed glare for talking about him as if his only true value was the price his parts could demand on the human flesh market. She had no idea how dearly close this hit to home. “I really wish people put all together were as interesting as they are taken apart. To be honest, the only reason I even bothered with a date to this ball was because people would think it was weird if I arrived by myself. Now that I’m here, though, you can’t make me go upstairs and pretend I’d prefer dancing and chatting to this amazing collection.”

“I know exactly what you’re saying. I was the same at your age, though back then the market for human novelties wasn’t nearly as extensive as it is now. I’m so happy you accepted my invitation to come here, as I was always sure I could see something of myself in you, ever since I saw that smile on your face then you got your first set of knuckle horns at the action I hosted in Galentani City.”

“I still have them! I got them fixed into a silver bracelet.”

“I was going to suggest you should if you hadn’t.”

“I wear them to school and people ask if they’d sheep horn. Sometimes I tell them the truth, but I also don’t want the teachers to ban me from wearing them.”

“Teachers at school aren’t going to understand. No-one will. We can only understand each other.”

Dr. Moreau nodded to Kurapika warmly to let him know she already counted him as one among her flesh collecting in-group of understanding. Kurapika felt dull, his capacity for stunned, repressed horror have surpassed its limit long before he’d even started drinking tea out of cups made of human bone ash. Little could shock him now.

Circumstances seem compelled to try to shock him anew anyway, however, as a few minutes later, Dr. Moreau was saying she had prepared a gift for Neon in order to commemorate their lasting friendship and the close-knit bonds of the community of serious human flesh collectors. An attendant in white with black gloves and a blood-red mask once more wheeled in the dining cart. Upon  the cart, at the very center of the top tray, was a tall, narrow object, concealed beneath plush, velvet cloth lined in gold tassels. This cloth was lifted away with a flourish on Dr. Moreau’s cue, revealing a complete set of Scarlet Eyes in a chillingly familiar casing.

“I believe, Miss Nostrade, that these belong to you.”

Neon shrieked and mimed as if she were about to faint with amazement. She asked if she could hug Dr. Moreau, and was given permission. Kurapika got up as well, but approached the eyes and not the old woman. He paced around the cart, inspecting everything, making sure these were indeed the same set as before. He’d known another version of them well, since he’d spent over an hour starting into them in stupefied disbelief and anguish before grudgingly handing them over to Neon. 

Kurapika knew now that those previous eyes had been fakes, but they’d be exact copies. After they were stolen, he hadn’t been able to prove to the payment collectors from the mafia community that they’d disappeared the same as the other goods bought in the underground auction, although it was obvious they must have. The mafia leaders were shrewd and desperate for capital, and Light’s rival, Zenji, had pressed the argument that, because the eyes had been stolen before anyone could prove they’d been fakes, the Nostrade family still owed 2.9 billion. In the end, through negotiation and a agreement that’d he’d be forgive a few million if he never missed a payment, Kurapika had spent a substantial 2.1 billion for a set of eyes he’d never owned or even seen...until now.

Kurapika reached out without thinking to touch the glass, but remembered himself and pulled his hand back before his fingers brushed the surface.

“They’re real?” he asked after Neon and Dr. Moreau had finally quieted down. Dr. Moreau nodded.

“I’ve had them tested and under surveillance for weeks. They’re real.”

“And…you’re just giving them to Neon? Like nothing?”

“Certainly. In my opinion, they’re hers. Bought and paid for. We collectors don’t steal from each other. I’ve used my connections to return nearly every item of human flesh bought in the auctions to their rightful owners. I know we flesh collectors can have our unsavory aspects, naturally, but we are a close community, Mr. Kurapika. We aren’t thieves between each other. I’ll gladly leave matters of theft to that group that destroyed the excitement and good reputation of the York Shin auctions.”

“You say that, but these eyes were stolen before they were even put up for sale. They were stolen from a Kurta clansman.”

“We don’t steal _from each other_. How items are procured is another matter.”

Kurapika could already feel the rage simmering inside him. He saw it flash white in the corners of his eyes as sparked and threatened to deprive him of his good sense and self-control. His teeth clenched together so hard they hurt, but he didn’t dare relax his jaw. Losing his temper now might jeopardize not only the retrieval of the eyes, but his reputation within the flesh collecting community. On the other hand, it was already clear that remaining in this room, with these people, surrounded by such a collection, was going to be impossible for him.

“I need some air.”

Kurapika’s heels clicked with icy authority as he did an about-face and strode out the door. Through the mental fog that befuddled him in his escape, he spared a distant thought for Neon’s safety. He decided she was fine where she was. He’d send Leorio down for her…if he ran into Leorio at all. He wasn’t in the mood to search him out. All he knew was he needed to get out and find Senritsu. He needed to see her _now_.

Senritsu heard Kurapika’s heart shrieking in rage long before he reached the gravel track that bisected the lawn outside the mansion. She was prepared and waiting for him at the point where the track wound down to the beach before it ended a far way off at the pier. The ship that’d brought them to the island twinkled in the distance over her shoulder, trapped in on line between the sea and the sky. Kurapika didn’t have to explain to her why he’d come storming out of the house in a fury that pounded through his chest loud enough to drown out the music and dancers and the roar of the sea against the sheer sided cliff the mansion sat upon. He nodded to Senritsu, then shut his eyes, and waited.

There was no buffer of confusion this time to slow down the effect of Senritsu’s flute. It hit him at full force in an instant, hard enough to throw him off balance and force him to take a seat where he stood as his taut nerves and his body were forced into a state of unnatural calm. Even with his eyes closed, he saw the serene landscape of pale flowers and a sunlit meadow, the likes of which he couldn’t remember having ever seen in real life, but which the music rendered so vividly in his mind that it was as if he’d been transported. The claustrophobic island around him fell away until even the inescapable, saline smell of the sea was absent. The night was replaced by sunlit day, full of singing birds and the delicate footsteps of a baby deer approaching a murmuring stream. Every image and sensation contained in the song conflicted with the reality of the airless crypt of vaults and exhibit halls beneath their feet. Stubbornly, Kurapika’s mind attempted to focus back on the unhealthy memory of that distressing place and everything he’d witness there only moments ago, but it couldn’t. It was as though the horrific images had been stolen from him, and they wouldn’t be returned until the music ceased with its purpose fulfilled.

Kurapika made no hurry to stand when the music died away at last. The unnatural calm holding his temper down receded gently, returning control to him along with renewed clarity of thought. Senritsu put away the flute and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It was a good idea to bring me,” she said.

“This is exactly why I brought you,” muttered Kurapika. He watched the mansion, his mouth set in a grim line as he considered what he needed to do next. He was picking up and cataloguing the thoughts the music had forced him to let go of, slowly and carefully shuffling through them and choosing what was essential.

“Will you go back inside?”

“I’ll have to. Neon’s alone. I’ll send Leorio to stay with her. He’s not going to like it. He didn’t want to see the collection at all if it could be helped. But, I’m not sure I can go back down again. I’ll just run right back out. I can’t listen to how they talk anymore. I can’t stand how they think. It’s…unreal.”

“Don’t worry about Leorio, He’ll accompany Neon anywhere he has to. He can handle it. I’ll go tell him myself if you want.”

“You can’t go inside the house.”

“No, but he’s playing cards on the shore with Linsen and some bodyguards from the other families. Most of the guests inside are paired up, so he’s mostly been hanging out with Linsen. He said it’s so no-one can accuse him of hitting on other girls behind Neon’s back. He already figured Neon wasn’t coming upstairs.”

“He’s right. She isn’t.”

“Have you prepared our plan for the rest of the night?”

“No.”

“There’s nothing you need to get? From the house? That you came for? I’d assumed with how you were feeling when you came out here….”

“No. Dr. Moreau gave that  to Neon as a present.”

Senritsu let out a sound of surprise. “So easy?”

“She said they belonged to Neon. The Nostrade family bought and paid for them, so according to Dr. Moreau, she’s returning to us what we own.”

“Oh. Huh. That’s nice of her.”

“She said flesh collector’s don’t steal from each other. To take the eyes for herself would be tantamount to stealing them from Neon. Which is ironic, considering—”

“I’m going to stop you there, Kurapika,” said Senritsu after pressing a finger to Kurapika’s mouth to shush him. Obediently, Kurapika stopped talking. “You’re just going to make yourself angry again,” she continued. “I can’t follow you around with my flute at the ready for the rest of the night. The important thing is, as long as those eyes are at the Nostrade Estate, it’s the same. You have what you want.”

“Yeah.”

“Now, do you want to go with me to find Leorio and send him to join Neon? Or do you want to sit on this lawn alone until the ball ends?”

“Sure. I’ll go,” said Kurapika. He groaned as he stood, ready for sleep, but aware that that ball wasn’t going to end until after dawn. “Do I look okay? Not too freaked out or anything?”

“You look tired, but that’s nothing new.”

“Good. I don’t want to answer a whole lot of questions.”

“He’s not going to ask. We’ve already been over what to expect. He’ll guess enough when he sees you to not have to ask you anything.”

“Good. Great. And hopefully he’s just as understanding when we banish him to join Neon into that glimpse of Hell masquerading as a fun hobby downstairs. Though I doubt Hell itself contains half as many horrors.”

“Don’t talk about it anymore, Kurapika,” said Senritsu, her voice stern. Kurapika grew sheepish and looked away as they walked down the gravel drive. “Don’t even think it, because I can hear the pain in your heart when your mind wanders back. I don’t like the sound. I don’t like hearing you when you get like this. I don’t even want to be around you when you’re full of nothing but rage.”

“I can’t really stop my mind from wandering,” said Kurapika sullenly.

“I know you can’t. Sorry. But it just agitates me, the sound of it. I get worked up by it.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll try to keep myself under control when you’re around. I don’t want you to suffer on my behalf.”

Senritsu let out a strange hum Kurapika had never heard before, as though she were on the verge of broaching some related topic, but not convinced that what she wanted to say needed to be shared. For a moment, she openly deliberated with herself, and Kurapika grew apprehensive. It wasn’t like Senritsu not to speak her mind to him. She knew when to be diplomatic and hold her tongue around him, yes, but what gave her pause right now didn’t seem to be founded on her sense of tact.

“Actually,” said Senritsu at last, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I might like to work in another family for a little while.” Kurapika’s step faltered. The gravel clattered as he corrected it. “Not forever,” Senritsu added quickly. “Just to get some more experience, make some more connections. Neon’s a bit of a dead end for me now. I’ve exhausted her reach in the community as far as I need it. I’ve been talking to some of the hired security on this trip, and I think it’s good time for a bit of a change.”

“Right. I see. That makes sense.”

“I know you’re starting up a security company, and you’re looking for staff. You were even saying to me a few weeks ago that you needed to increase your own ties, to work for more families than the Nostrades. So, I was wondering if I could work for you, if there’s anywhere you think you could place me?”

Kurapika cleared his throat. “How, uh, how far away do you want to go?”

“Anywhere you think I might be useful.”

“Well, then, I’ll take a look at some contracts later,” said Kurapika, quickening his pace as though he could outrun the topic just as he’d run from the revolting maze beneath the mansion. “I’ll see if I can match you to anything I have. It might take a while. Our reputation is still growing. The contracts aren’t too lucrative yet.”

“I can wait, and the money doesn’t matter. I just wanted to put it out there so you’ll know to consider me.”

“That’s perfectly reasonable, and I appreciate your interest in working for me,” said Kurapika. His mind echoed jeeringly that Senritsu want to work for him, but not _with him_. It was probably because she couldn’t stand the sound of his heart, right? He told himself to stop being ridiculous about that, acting like a wounded child. Senritsu had goals, a mission, her own personal hunt for something she believed the underworld and the mafia could assist her in finding. She wasn’t Kurapika’s assistant, but rather his comrade, his co-worker. He couldn’t expect her to lend an ear or to advise and take care of him forever. Even if they were friends, all friends went their separate ways eventually. Leorio would leave soon, too. Everyone had someplace to go, somewhere else to be, Kurapika included. Now more than ever, he needed to be prepared to be alone.

The bitter side of Kurapika reminded him flesh collectors stuck together. They were close. They gifted each other 2.9 billion jenny eyes as tokens of their lasting friendship. With immense hospitality, they’d readily extended that same offer of camaraderie to him as he’d cautiously stepped foot into their world. Not even monsters were alone, it would seem. The close ties of loyalty between the members of the Phantom Troupe haunted him. Evil looked after itself and unified. What chance did an individual stand against it? The only thing to do was to become evil as well, to enter its fold, and hunt down it from inside.

Senritsu made a small tsking sound at Kurapika, cautioning him. Kurapika quickly pushed away his dark thoughts and tried to remember the images of the music and the line of the melody. The residual Nen contained within his fresh memories responded and made it easier to steer his mind in another direction.

“Is, um, are Leorio and everyone much further?” asked Kurapika, shooting Senritsu a small, apologetic smile as he tried to figure out what level of concentration was necessary to obtain mastery over his heart and force it to beat as reassuringly as he was making every outward effort to appear.

“We’re close. See the lamp light at the side of that bluff? Leorio and a bodyguard named Siero were arguing when I left, trying to win some contest of whose country had the craziest village festivals. Do you want to go ahead and get him yourself? I can’t scramble over the rocks as quickly as you.”

“No. I won’t go. I outrank everyone over there. It’ll create an uncomfortable atmosphere. I’m just going to take a walk along the shore and catch the first boat back to the ship at five twenty.”

“Okay. But don’t wander too far off. It’s dark. You could sprain your ankle.”

“I won’t. I just want to find somewhere quiet enough to think.”

“That sounds like a day in my life,” said Senritsu with a laugh that Kurapika echoed with a complicit smile. “I’ll keep a lookout for you. You go walk and relax and do what you need to. We have a three-day voyage back. I’ve heard the trip back always feels longer than getting here.”

“I hope not,” said Kurapika. He took a step backwards and waved. He and Senritsu parted, both leaving the gravel track. Senritsu headed on to the short bluff, where the off-duty security was clustered together and passing the time with cards and drinking, letting out occasional bouts of raucous laughter that rolled over the steep stones of the rocky shore and into the sea. Kurapika, listening to the laughter but not feeling it, headed for nothing and nowhere. He wove carefully over piles of rocks until he found a boulder with a ledge that was good for sitting. He could pass the final few hours there, alone, immersed in thoughts that either burned and crackled with anger or dragged his shoulders down to a slump with a sorrowful weight. A few minutes later, he watched the thin, shadowy shape of Leorio head up the path towards the mansion, straightening his long dress coat as he went, oblivious to Kurapika’s gaze. Kurapika then turned and watched the sea in the other direction, but found there was nothing of note on the horizon. As the night grew lighter towards dawn, he silently observed the team from the ship as they prepared the first boat to leave. He tried to catch a few of the words they shouted to each other as they worked together, but the wind wasn’t carrying much the sound in his direction.

The sun began to make its appearance as a sliver on the horizon, heralding the arrival of morning, and the first, thin stream of guests started to trickle out from the mansion. Kurapika listened to them calling out like lost children for their staff, and the laughter and conversation further up the bluff ceased. More guests issued forth a few minutes later, several of them raving about the majesty of a sunrise on the ocean, and bemoaning the lack of a soft, sandy beach to recline on so they could watch the colorful show in comfort. 

Taking his cue, Kurapika slipped down from the edge of the boulder where was seated and made his way to the pier ahead of everyone else. He waited there with Linsen, who’d seen and joined him, until they could board a boat and set off back to the ship.

“They said the trip back to port feels longer than heading here,” said Linsen. “Everyone’s all partied out and wants to go home.”

“That’s probably true for most guests,” said Kurapika. “But I have work to do.”

Linsen nodded, knowing exactly what Kurapika’s work entailed. “I’ve got the contact information of a few security officers interested in working for you,” he reported dutifully. “We can start running checks on them right away when we get back to the ship.”

“Good. I’ll get right to it. I need to look over some of our proposed contracts anyway,” said Kurapika. His now utterly businesslike demeanor betrayed nothing of the turmoil that had consumed him only a few hours before. “Once we’re back on board, I want you to keep an eye on whatever cargo the ship might pick up, see if there’s anything addressed to the Nostrade family. If something shows, bring it straight to my room. If Neon arrives to the ship carrying the box herself, send her to me with it first thing after she boards.”

“I’ll make it happen,” Linsen promised. “I assume we bought something for her collection, then?”

Kurapika took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said simply. “Yes, we did.” He turn to face the sunrise as though observing it with a passing, perfunctory interest, though in reality he saw nothing. When he thought back later on the time spent waiting to leave the island, he could only remember the hollow thudding and gentle splashing sounds of the rocking boat as it rose and fell alongside the pier, waiting to be boarded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so next update will be delayed, because I simply won't have time to even glance at it until Tuesday or Wednesday. I almost missed even today's update. Crazy.
> 
> In other news, this fic is looking to be 28 chapters because I've added a scene at the end, making stuff a little sweeter on the bittersweet end.


	26. A Sorry State of Affairs

Leorio got right out of the way as Senritsu burst from the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. The last thing he’d heard before Senritsu had left Kurapika’s room hadn’t been soothing music, but rather the muffled sound of tired imploring as it devolved into argument. Kurapika had to be smart enough to know that all the calming Nen Senritsu could ever send into him wasn’t going to do him a bit of good if he kept the Scarlet Eyes in full view on the desk. Senritsu had requested that he put the eyes away someplace to make things easier, at least long enough to fall asleep. Maybe he could hand them over to Leorio for the rest of the trip, and Leorio could look after them instead? He could trust Leorio with that, couldn’t he?

Kurapika had remained adamant in his refusal to move the eyes anywhere he himself couldn’t see them. The eyes were his; Neon had given them to him. He wouldn’t lose them again.

The result turned out to be one of the rare times Leorio had seen Senritsu roll her eyes at anyone. 

“If he’d only put those eyes away,” said Senritsu. “Is he going to do this every time he obtains a set? Just stare at them forever like he’s possessed and grumble at anyone who interrupts him?”

“Not your problem,” Leorio assured her. “He’s asked you here to help him, so if he’s a jerk, it’s his fault,” He motion to the sideboard against the far wall. “Do you need a drink? You can walk it right back in there and toss it in his face if you want.”

“I can’t. My shift starts in half an hour. I have to go get ready.”

Leorio placed a reassuring hand on Senritsu’s shoulder. “If I were as great at Emission as you are, I’d play you something myself to cheer you up. As things stand, however, I can’t help you very much. I’ll make sure to tell Kurapika to stop being an asshole, though. At least to you. …If I ever see him.”

“Thanks for the offer. Just keep an eye on him for everyone, will you? He’s supposed to be working, and he’s not even doing that, which tells me maybe things aren’t going how _he’s_ planned them to, either. He’s probably just as surprised as any of us with how he’s acting. He even asked for help, you know?”

“It’s my fault,” said Leorio. He hunched forward in his seat and fiddled with the buttons on the cuffs of his jacket, guiltily avoiding Senritsu’s gaze as he confessed. “I didn’t even realize he was up all night until you got here saying he’d called you. I didn’t even know he had the eyes here with him, literally right in this cabin. His door was locked when I got back yesterday, but he’s always locking it whenever he feels like it. I just gave him space, as usual. I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t blame yourself. I know you haven’t left the cabin, either. You’ve been waiting here for him, to help him if he needs it, even if it means you’re going to spend every day of this trip cooped up in here.”

“You’re right. In that case, I suppose I really need to think up an excuse to give Neon. I’ve been putting it off. Or well, to be honest, I haven’t really cared.”

“It’s no big deal. She’s already told her friends she’s dumped you.”

“What? Really? So soon? Huh…. What was her reason?”

“Your stomach’s too weak for flesh collecting, so you’re incompatible with her lifestyle.”

“It’s not my stomach, it’s my conscience. And the problem is it weighs too heavily.”

Senritsu didn’t have to express how much she agreed with this statement. She stayed a little while longer, as much as she could afford until she needed go get ready for her next shift. When her time was up, she went without notifying Kurapika in his room that she was leaving. Leorio remained where he sat, alone in the unnatural quiet of the cabin, listening to his own breathing. The general hum of the ship reverberated about him and seemed to grow as he became aware of it. It mingled and merged with the distant rushing of the sea as the ship cut across the water. In Leorio’s room, the waves were the loudest, since he’d left his balcony door open to change the stale air that had kept forcing him to painfully reminisce about the hangovers he’d nursed in his bed two mornings in a row.

The stale feeling that had permeated his bedroom hadn’t left the cabin completely through the opened balcony door. A significant portion of it had fled indoors instead and burrowed into the still silence of every other shut up space. Leorio could only imagine how suffocating Kurapika’s own windowless cell felt. The passage of time in there must've been agonizing. Even the living room, full of light from its glass sliding door and shared balcony with Leorio’s bedroom, had begun to feel stuffy and dead. Five hours alone there, waiting to see if Kurapika’s head would ever pop out from behind the door to ask him for something, made Leorio feel like a captured animal that had grown too large for its habitat overnight. He considered rising from his seat to open a window and let new air into this room as well, but despite his conviction that this was actually a very good idea, conviction alone wasn’t enough to grant him the energy to overcome his listlessness and rise from his chair.

Leorio had been so relieved when Senritsu had shown up earlier, both because he’d been bored out of his mind, and also because she’d told him Kurapika had actually asked her to come. He’d been happy to hear Kurapika was making some strides towards helping himself, though at the same time he’d felt disappointed that Kurapika hadn’t involved him even enough to notify him that Senritsu would stop by. It’d been alarming to realize that the first word he’d heard Kurapika speak all day had been to grant Senritsu permission to enter his room. An hour later, she and Kurapika had begun to argue. A half hour after that, Senritsu had come out of the room in a huff and called Kurapika unreasonable.

Leorio recalled having been vaguely impressed when he’d heard Senritsu’s footsteps moving heavily towards the door, and then the slam as she shut it hard behind her. It was incredibly difficult to get Senritsu into any state resembling a huff. Kurapika had achieved the near impossible. What sort of an award did something like that merit, Leorio had wondered? A cutting barb, or just a punch in the face directly?

“Get your Nen out of here, Leorio.”

Leorio grunted and retracted the tendril of En he’d been trying to subtly sneak in under the door.

“Just making sure you’re okay in there.”

“I’m okay.”

“Can I come in and talk?”

“No.”

“I’m not Senritsu; I can’t hear everything you say perfectly through the door. At least open it a crack so we don’t have to raise our voices?”

“There’s no reason to. I don’t want to talk. Keep your Nen out of this room. That’s all I have to say.”

If this had been a phone call, Leorio knew now would’ve been the moment he’d have been facing nothing but a dial tone. But, it wasn’t a call, and Kurapika wasn’t going to be rid of him so easily. Leorio would remain on the couch until they arrived to port, because, though it made his stomach clench to consider it, this might be his only chance to get through to Kurapika in any way before Kurapika could insert a greater physical distance between them that no raising of Leorio’s voice through a door could ever communicate across.

“I’m trying to respect that you told me not to talk to you when I got back, but like, I feel kind of useless just sitting here.”

There was no response from the other side of the door.

“You know I’m not going to sit back and do nothing for the next three days.”

Silence.

“I really don’t know why I just don’t go in there right now.”

More silence.

“If you don’t say anything by tomorrow, I’m just going to be rude and invite myself in. I’m not letting you sit alone, making yourself feel like shit, for literal days. Those eyes…they aren’t good for you. I know it’s your goal, I know it’s important, but you can’t just hang out with them in your room for four days straight without saying a word to anyone. Or without eating anything. Or without sleeping, probably.”

There was a small sound suggesting a tired sigh.

“Are you quite done yet, Leorio?” asked Kurapika.

“Not hardly.”

“Then just shut up. You don’t want me to make you.”

“I wholly invite you to make me, you asshole.”

The tired sigh was much more than a suggestion this time and was followed by Kurapika swearing softly to himself. There was the scratch of a chair against the rough carpet and a clatter as the back of it knocked against the edge of the desk. Once he was settled, Kurapika spoke again.

“Come in.”

Leorio’s lethargy fell away in an instant. He rose from the couch and went to the door. He was surprised it wasn’t locked as he stepped inside.

The only source of light in the room was a small reading lamp lit beside the bed. Its reach was limited and focused uselessly on the floor, which left the rest of the room shadowy and dim, perfect for brooding. Leorio would’ve sneered at such a clichéd atmosphere, except he agreed that Kurapika had every right in the world to brood and couldn’t judge him for it. Kurapika watched Leorio warily as he entered, impatiently waiting for Leorio to do or say something that Kurapika could send him away for. He was sitting with his back to the desk where the Scarlet Eyes stood exposed. The eyes cast a low, deceptively warm red light over the cleared desk surface and the back of Kurapika’s hand that lay protectively before them, ready to shield them from whatever threat Leorio might pose. Leorio wasn’t sure why the blatant presence of the eyes startled him. The entire content of Senritsu and Kurapika’s previous argument had been Kurapika’s utter refusal to put them away.

Leorio failed to suppress a shudder when it occurred to him that actually, he knew precisely what was wrong: he’d never seen a pair of Scarlet Eyes without a face. Whenever Kurapika had mentioned them, Leorio hadn’t truly imagined them as they must be, separated from their bodies and preserved in jars. He only knew Kurapika’s eyes on Kurapika’s face, and in his mind all references to the Scarlet Eyes had assumed a hazy shape limited to that one context. Watching the orphaned eyes now, Leorio was struck by their light and how eerily divorced from the concept of “human” they were in their setting. They seemed alive, and yet they were totally motionless. A part of him expected them to bob up and down ominously, but they were as frozen as a picture. The sleek glass canister they’d been so cleanly set inside of caused him to recall the ghastly exhibits he’d briefly glimpsed when he’d gone to find Neon during the ball. Nothing about these eyes made him think of Kurapika. Nothing about them made him imagine the tragic fate of the human being who’d been born with them. The flesh collecting market had done too good a job at erasing all trace of the individual from the mere object, to the point where all Leorio saw was a chilling ornament on a desk.

Leorio wondered if this was the same for Kurapika whenever Kurapika saw his clansman’s eyes as they were now, converted into objects. At the same time, Leorio knew that he could never ask that question.

“I’ll give you two options,” said Kurapika. He words were direct and quick, like he was getting a tiresome but necessary task out of the way. “Lecture me and tell me everything you have to say right now, and then leave not only this room, but this entire cabin for the rest of the trip. Or two, stay here without a word, without bothering me, and without touching anything I don’t give you permission to.”

Leorio didn’t need to deliberate. “I’ll stay,” he said.

“Are you sure? I suppose there’s also a third option where you turn around and leave without a word and don’t bother me for the rest of the trip, as well.”

“I’m sure. How I see it, I’m either sitting around here, or I’m sitting around in the other room. At least in here I can see you, though.”

“There’s not much to see.”

“Yeah, but it’s still the only choice. I don’t really think talking much is going to work right now anyway, so, I don’t have much to say.”

“You’re right. It isn’t.”

“Great. As that’s settled, can I at least ask you where I should sit? Or are you planning on forcing me to stand in place in the doorway for two more days?”

“Shut the door and take a seat on the bed of you want, but don’t approach me. Don’t lay a finger on me as you pass, and don’t give me any looks, or you’re getting sent out.”

In different circumstance, Leorio would’ve made an exaggerated joke of not getting anywhere near Kurapika as he passed him on his way to the bed, perhaps even going so far as to hug the wall and apologize if he breathed too heavily. The intensity of both Kurapika and the bodiless Scarlet Eyes watching him from the desk, however, restrained Leorio. Kurapika drew back his feet and tucked them under the chair as he passed. Leorio didn’t know if this was because Kurapika really thought Leorio would try and kick or nudge him, or if he just wanted to imply an insult by emphasizing how far he wished to be away from Leorio despite allowing him into the room.

Leorio sat at the edge of the bed and took out his phone. It was as good a time as any to study, since he’d fallen behind over the busy week. Kurapika, meanwhile, didn’t turn his chair back to the desk he’d been facing earlier. He watched the wall in front of him, lost in thought as though he were still alone. Leorio supposed that in his mind, Kurapika just might be. He wondered with some worry if Kurapika underwent this stress-induced tunnel vision every time Scarlet Eyes were present.

Leorio broke the silence after more than an hour to ask if he should answer the cabin door. Someone was knocking, and if he didn’t reply, they might let themselves in to check on him. Kurapika shrugged, and Leorio got up. This time when Leorio passed him, Kurapika didn’t move at all.

The living room had darkened as the evening had grown later, forcing Leorio to move cautiously through it. He hit the light before opening the door and smiled at Neon’s attendant. She’d come with a tray of various foods sent by Senritsu. He thanked her, lied that Kurapika was fine, and closed the door. He put the perishable items in the refrigerator after asking Kurapika if he wanted anything and getting no reply. He then went around the cabin, lowering the blinds and shutting the opened balcony door in his room. The heavy feeling increased the moment the air stopped flowing, causing Leorio’s feet to drag as he headed right back its core, the bedroom, and resumed his seat on the bed.

“Are you alright if I just go change?” asked Leorio a short while later, annoyed with himself for not taking the opportunity to change out of his suit earlier. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to get up again without Kurapika’s permission. “It’s just that it’s kind of stuffy in here.”

“It might be better to go back to your room now. To sleep.”

Leorio wasn’t sure why Kurapika hadn’t just ordered him to leave with a direct command. He was immediately suspicious. Kurapika seemed to be offering him a choice, which gave Leorio the impression that if he left the room, Kurapika would lock the door behind him.

“No, I’m fine here,” said Leorio and focused back on his phone. He told himself that he’d sit here all night if he had to. He’d sit here every day until they got back. His phone would die, and he’d have nothing to do with himself, but he’d remain fixed in place. During the Hunter Exam he’d run for over four hours with no end in sight. He was perfectly capable of waiting silently, seated in a bed, for a full day and two more nights.

The stifling heat, however, was becoming a pressing factor. Leorio gave up trying to endure it. Yes, he’d been able to run for hours during the Hunter Exam, but he hadn’t accomplished it fully dressed.

“Can I take off my jacket? I won’t put it anywhere. I’ll hang onto it.”

“Yes,” said Kurapika. “Do whatever. Just lay it on the bed next to you.”

Leorio removed the suit jacket and folded it over neatly before placing it on the bed. Before he could take his phone back up from the nightstand, Kurapika spoke again.

“Why are you even wearing a suit today? Where were you going to go? Take off your tie, too. You’ll probably ask me that one next.”

Leorio removed the tie. He undid a few buttons at the top of his shirt as well and untucked it in his typical lounging style. Throughout this operation, he said nothing, though it would’ve been easy to point out Kurapika was also wearing a suit. The crucial difference was that Kurapika had clearly never changed out of his.

“Take off your shoes.”

Leorio looked at Kurapika, but Kurapika wasn’t watching him. Hesitatingly, Leorio reached down to untie a shoe, waiting to see if Kurapika would add anything else to the list. In a minute he had both shoes off and placed next to each other along the foot of the bed.

“It’d be logical to put the belt with your shoes, too, right?”

This took a moment because Leorio made sure the belt was coiled properly before placing it carefully on the ground. Kurapika no longer had anything to add. Following the small intrusions of sound—Kurapika’s voice, the rustling fabric, the slip of laces and soft thuds of soles set carefully on the floor, and finally the muted clink of the belt buckle taping against itself as it rested against the Leorio’s left shoe—the silence rushed back harder, crashing like a wave into the half a room of space between them. Leorio reached distractedly for his phone, but something made him pause. Kurapika hadn’t said anything, but Leorio’d felt the change almost immediately. He looked over one more time, and their eyes met.

“Lie down, under the blankets, and go to sleep. It’s late.”

Kurapika was making Leorio go to bed. Leorio almost laughed in astonishment. Everything was going backwards; Kurapika was now the one sending others to go sleep instead of the one being sent. Leorio stopped reaching for his phone and did as he was told. He slipped under the tightly laid blankets and loosened them until the bed was more comfortable. He was certain he wasn’t going to fall asleep here, but he wasn’t about to ruin everything and argue with Kurapika’s design. Obediently, he shut his eyes and put forth a feigned effort at to sleep. Perhaps sheer boredom itself would drive him into dozing off, though he didn’t particularly want it to. Not as long as Kurapika continued to sit awake at the desk, trying and failing to wean himself from staring directly into the Scarlet Eyes alone.

Kurapika got up from the chair. Leorio listened as he went to the bedroom door and locked it before crossing over to the closet and removing his suit jacket and shoes. He took Leorio’s jacket up from the bed as well and hung it with his own. A minute later, he stepped into the bathroom without shutting the door. Leorio would’ve been impressed how comfortable Kurapika was around him if he didn’t know the truth: the doorway to the bathroom stood parallel to the wall with the desk. Kurapika was keeping the Scarlet Eyes in view.

Leorio felt Kurapika shaking him awake a moment later. He grumbled, tired and disappointed in himself for falling halfway asleep. He wanted to say something harsh about how you didn’t make someone go to bed just to wake them up a half hour later. That wasn’t how going to bed worked, though perhaps Kurapika didn’t know that. Kurapika probably knew nothing about the sleeping habits of normal people.

“I’m going to take a shower. Make sure everything’s okay in here. I won’t be long.”

Leorio sighed and moved his pillow forward towards the back of his neck so that his head was propped up and he could more easily survey all the nothing that was going to happen in this room while Kurapika took a shower. He felt too drowsy to roll over and make another attempt for his phone. The blankets holding him down persuaded him to stay put. The phone was a distraction to pass the time and allow a peaceable distance between him and the entire situation he was in, but Kurapika had asked him to keep watch. Leorio stared out dully into the room and waited. He kept his eyes away from the desk, lest he get sucked into the same staring contest Kurapika had been taking part in for over a day.

Kurapika finished his shower quickly and passed by in nightclothes on his was back towards the closet. He moved as though he were oblivious to not only to Leorio’s presence, but to the eyes as well. Leorio imagined he was invisible and openly stared at Kurapika. He watched Kurapika go through the drawers in the closet, searching for something that hadn’t been put away where he’d expected. As he opened and closed drawers, a few errant droplets of water dripped from uneven strands of hair and onto the towel draped over his shoulders. To challenge himself, Leorio tried to catch sight of a drop right at the moment before falling. He had little success in the darkness of the room.

A warmth of feeling Leorio had been trying to suppress reared up inside him as he watched Kurapika. He hadn’t expected to find that feeling here, constrained to a bed in the corner of a room he shared with a ghastly set of eyes. There was a rattle as Kurapika tugged a cord free and murmured unhappily at how it’d become unwound while stored. He brought the cord to the nightstand and used it to plug in Leorio’s phone. He took another cord from the nightstand shelf and used it to plug in his own.

“Thanks,” said Leorio distantly, seeing Kurapika’s movements more than Kurapika himself. He struggled to choke the continuing warm feeling inside him back down.

“Yeah,” said Kurapika before standing and heading into the bathroom again with a container of floss tucked in his hand. Leorio saw it and wondered vaguely what that was like, to be the kind of person who travelled with a personal supply of dental floss.

Evidently, Kurapika didn’t know what more to do with himself after he’d flossed his teeth. He came back, put the floss away, and shut the closet door, but didn’t move from there for several long seconds. He turned to look at the desk, where the eyes waited, and took a few steps in that direction. Leorio hoped Kurapika wouldn’t go back to brooding and lose himself for the rest of the night. Kurapika needed to sleep. The eyes would be around to torture him in the morning. It was time for a break now.

“Move to the other end of the bed toward the wall,” said Kurapika. He took a tablet from the desk drawer and carried it with him to the bedside. He waited impatiently for Leorio to slide over, but Leorio only blinked at him dumbly. Kurapika rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed. He began kicking Leorio in the shoulder to force him to move, telling him to wake the hell up and budge. At last, Leorio went, and Kurapika had enough space to prop up a pillow for support and sit with his legs stretched out on top of the blankets. He opened a book on the tablet and automatically reached for the lamp to turn off the light. A second before his fingers brushed the switch, his jerked his hand back and, clearly thinking better of it, left the light on. Leorio thought it was rather judgmental of Kurapika to be so obvious about not wanting to be alone with him in the dark, but then he saw Kurapika glance in the direction of the desk and realized that it wasn’t him Kurapika didn’t want to be in the dark with.

“The way people who enjoy taxidermy talk about animals is similar to the way flesh collectors talk about the items in their collections,” said Kurapika thoughtfully after getting a few pages into his book. On the tablet screen, Leorio caught a glimpse of a polar bear standing on its hind legs with a basket of artificial tulips cradled in its arm.

“You’re reading about taxidermy?”

“I’m trying to perfect my character.”

“Does it help?”

“We’ll see.”

Leorio leaned over to get a better view of the page Kurapika was on, but Kurapika was reading faster than Leorio could make out words at an angle. Leorio sighed and lay back. His mind wandered to the version of Kurapika he’d known a year ago, when their plans for the future had been impractical dreams set to be accomplished upon the attainment of a Hunter’s License. The bulk his memories were of Kurapika talking forever on mute, either to Leorio himself, or to Gon and Killua, or into the trees ahead of him as Leorio selfishly used Kurapika’s shiny blond hair as a beacon to keep him on the path whenever he dozed off while walking. Kurapika had always been reciting entire paragraphs of information back in the first few months Leorio had known him. He’d been insufferable, and yet at the same time, strangely endearing. It’d become obvious after a while that he wasn’t merely telling the group what he knew, but was genuinely attempting to share his knowledge as though it were a precious commodity. Later, when Leorio had learned how isolated the Kurta had been from the world, it’d made a little more sense why Kurapika would’ve treated knowledge in such a way. From then on, he’d made a bit more of an effort to listen and stay engaged when Kurapika spoke, but that hadn’t made Kurapika any more interesting. Leorio’s efforts soon began to fail, but luckily Kurapika never tested how well he’d been paying attention.

To Leorio’s endless embarrassment, the rest of his distant memories of Kurapika were mostly just the way Kurapika constantly smiled back, even if just for a second, every time Leorio chanced to meet his eye. Leorio himself didn’t even smile when that sort of thing happened, but Kurapika always did. Or well, he always had. Leorio had begun to lose track of that kind of thing over the weeks he’d been teaching Kurapika to date, so he couldn’t say with certainty if Kurapika’s smiles were as quick or consistent as they’d previously been. Part of him was worried maybe Kurapika had started holding back. Part of him reminded him that he had no proof that this was true.

Leorio watched the side of Kurapika’s face, waiting for him to look over, to try to sneak some small glance in Leorio’s direction out of passing curiosity. It was impossible to completely ignore another person who was so near, their in- and exhalations contending for space in the silence of the otherwise empty room. Human instinct drew out furtive glances, small acknowledgments, signs of awareness of another’s presence. It created a slight, unspoken magnetism between strangers alone together, so, Leorio wasn’t wrong to expect Kurapika of all people to look over at him. He and Kurapika weren’t strangers, and Kurapika was eternally welcome to meet his eye. The fact that Leorio was still waiting several minutes later only proved that Kurapika was intentionally avoiding him. They were close enough to touch, and Kurapika wouldn’t even look at him,

It consoled Leorio a little when he noticed Kurapika wasn’t getting very far in his book now. Kurapika’s eyes flitted over the page with a sudden quickness whenever he remembered he was supposed to be reading, but soon after they’d start to drag and slow down again. The moments where he stared at nothing were growing longer and more frequent. Leorio watched him nod off twice and catch himself. Kurapika looked over to him at last after Leorio failed to suppress a scoff the third time Kurapika’s head pitched forward, faster and lower than ever. Kurapika’s closed lips flattened and widened in the flash of an artificial smile, admitting to the ridiculous image he’d made of himself. He folded the cover of the tablet over the screen and put it away in the side table drawer.

Leorio held perfectly still as Kurapika stretched his legs and slid himself himself down until he was lying on his back at Leorio’s side, separated from him by the sheets and blankets. Kurapika unfolded and flattened out the bent pillow beneath his head. He then brought his arms to his sides in an unnaturally straight posture Leorio couldn’t imagine anyone falling asleep in.

Kurapika remained as he was for a long time. Leorio lay frozen beside him, as though any sudden, extraneous movement would send Kurapika darting away like a frightened bird, back to the desk and the silent, motionless eyes. If Leorio refrained from drawing any unnecessary attention to himself, perhaps Kurapika would relax and sleep. It was the last thing Leorio needed to achieve his goal of entering this room and this bed and into this entire awkward situation.

Without warning, Kurapika turned to his side, facing Leorio. Leorio had already shut his eyes quickly, pretending to sleep, the moment Kurapika had begun to move. He listened to the slow slide of Kurapika’s body over the blankets, felt the warmth as Kurapika’s arms wrapped around his torso, and held his breath as Kurapika’s head rested lightly his chest.

“You can put your hand in my hair. But, it’s probably still damp.”

Leorio resumed breathing. He wormed his arms out from beneath the blankets and held Kurapika closer.

“I’m probably taking advantage of the circumstances.”

“It’s fine,” Leorio murmured. He buried a hand in Kurapika’s hair, allowing dense dense tufts of it to crowd the spaces between his fingers as he pull gently on it with the weight of his hand.

“You wouldn’t tell me if it weren’t fine.”

“I’m not a heartless monster. If anything, I’m too soft. This sort of thing will always be fine. I can’t possibly say no to you.”

“It’s probably not a good idea to indulge me, though.”

Leorio shrugged and pressed down lightly with his fingertips. The warm, damp hair near the scalp stuck to his fingers, though the rest was cool and smooth where it had dried. He felt the curve of Kurapika’s skull like a bowl in his hand and moved his fingers over it lightly in small, circular motions, languid and unperturbed.

“I can repeat over and over how much you need to keep your distance,” said Leorio. He pulled his hand back and shook it it to let the strands clinging to it fall back into place, “like how it’s best not to get mixed up in these kinds of things, but…I’ll never turn you away. Keep in mind I’m weak like that.”

“I agree with you, though. I agree that feelings will only hold me back in my mission.”

Leorio paused while weaving his fingers into another region of Kurapika’s hair. “I didn’t tell you to stop because it was going to hold you back,” he reminded him.

“It’s a better reason than the one I think you gave me. Something about our friendship. I think my reason is more effective than that one. I’m more likely to heed it.”

“Well, I should say ‘whatever works for you’ and leave it at that, then,” said Leorio lightly. “The result’s the same, more or less.”

Kurapika took a deep breath and adjusted the arm he was lying on top of. He burrowed his head down into the border where the insulating blankets ended and the heat of Leorio’s body began. Leorio’s chest warmed where Kurapika’s forehead pressed against the fabric of his shirt. Where Kurapika’s hair spread out, he felt chill. He started pulling on the strands in a pensive, gentle manner similar to the way he pulled on the hair around his own temples when he lost in thought.

“You could tell before I realized it, right?” asked Kurapika, his voice muffled by the blankets. “You predicted it.”

“Predicted what?”

“That I’d choose my mission over you,” said Kurapika. He turned his face aside slightly so he could speak clearer. “That’s why you recanted and apologized for saying you liked me.”

Leorio didn’t have the energy to argue over the details. Breaking down every nuance of his choice wouldn't change the outcome. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I knew. I’ve sort of always known that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. No-one’s to blame.”

“I really do wish that I could—”

“Don’t start with this. I told you when I entered this room that talking wasn’t going to change anything.”

“But apologizing makes me feel better.”

“Yeah, because you made yourself feel bad in the first place, even when you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I’ve done—”

“ _But I said_ no-one’s to blame. All’s fair and all that, no point apologizing now. Having feelings for people is always sort of painful, even when things work out well, so it’s not really anyone’s fault when someone gets hurt. It’s just part of the overall experience.”

Kurapika hardly listened.

“I’m sorry you liked me,” he said, “even when it was impossible.”

Leorio chuckled. “Stop. Don’t make apologies for me to myself. That wasn’t something you made me do.”

“And I’m sorry I can’t be with you and see how this all works out.”

“Are you even listening to what I just said?”

“I’m sorry I can’t choose you.”

“Please don’t tell me you prepared a list of these in advance, Kurapika. You’re sorry for too much.”

“I’m sorry I still like you even though you told me it was a bad idea.”

“I’m not even mad about that, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry I made you worry about me all day in this room.”

“Actually, you should apologize to Senritsu….”

“I’m sorry for everything with Neon.”

“Yeah, again, that’s an apology for Neon, not me.”

“I’m sorry you think I just use you as resource.”

“You’ve already apologized for that before.”

“I’m sorry I do sometimes just kind of use you as resource.”

“Ah, well…uh, at least you’ve admitted it. I didn’t need to hear that, though. I already forgave you.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you on purpose and never have anything to say when you call.”

“Okay, now this is getting redundant. We had this conversation three days ago. Hurry up and get to the part where you apologize for all these apologies, and be done with it already.”

“But I want you know I’m sorry about everything. I feel bad about what’s happened.”

“It’s obvious that you’re not really sorry about all these things you’ve said,” said Leorio. He quickly corrected himself when he realized how harsh he sounded. “Or, I mean, yes, you are sorry, but those things aren’t why you feel bad right now. You know that, right? Can’t you see that it’s just—or, well, I mean…actually nevermind.”

_It’s those eyes_ , Leorio wanted to say. _Apologizing for every tiny thing you’ve ever done to me isn’t going to do anything to erase the guilt you feel, because it’s not me or us or anything like that that you’re really sorry for. It’s the eyes on that desk. You’re sorry to those eyes._

“I forgive you for everything,” said Leorio instead, lowering his voice. “I don’t care what you think you did did or what you’ll do. I forgive you for all of it, okay? It’s okay. Everything is fine. Don’t worry.”

“I still like you.”

Leorio sighed and tightened his hold on Kurapika.

“I know,” he said. “You already apologized for it. Try to keep track.”

“When I’m done with this, with all of this…I’ll….”

“Don’t say you’ll come find me or something like that,” said Leorio. He let the hair he was tugging at fall back into place and obscure Kurapika’s face so he wouldn’t have to see any change in it. “That’s wishful thinking. Making an empty promise like that will just give you more to blame yourself for later. And then you’re going to have to apologize _even more_.”

“I’m serious. I’m not a lone, heroic Hunter like Hunter D. I was never planning to be a Hunter by myself. I’ll find you.”

“I’m going to be a boring doctor, not some crazy adventurer, Kurapika. By Hunter standards, I’m not especially impressive or interesting. You’re not going to be able to drag me around the world with you.”

“I’ve think seen enough of the world. I’ll find you. I don’t even care if you’ll still like me or not when I do. I might not even have these sorts of feelings for you anymore. But that’s fine. That’s not why I want to find you.”

“What do you want to find me for, then?”

“Just…to have somewhere to go.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you’re more than welcome to come find me. From there, you can decide that to do next.”

“Then I will.”

“Good.”

For a few seconds, Leorio gave into the tender feeling inside him and leaned to kiss Kurapika on the top of the head. Kurapika didn’t have anything else to say, though Leorio doubted he was out of apologies yet. At least Kurapika had settled one thing on his mind that had been bothering him, though it was impossible to know when the distant day in which Kurapika would be free of his obligation to his vengeance might ever arrive.

Leorio was no longer tired. Instead, he listened over the long minutes as Kurapika’s breathing slowed, and he gradually fell asleep. Leorio willed himself to follow fitfully after, the blankets and Kurapika’s weight too warm to allow him to fall asleep completely in that position. Occasionally, Kurapika stirred as he slumbered, waking Leorio every time, but he never let Leorio go. Leorio wasn’t sure he would’ve let him anyway.

Leorio watched the steadily glowing eyes, still prominent and foreboding on the desk, inundating the room with the weight of their presence along with their weak light. He contemplated creating some Emission tactic that might help conceal them, but knew he’d pay for it when Kurapika woke up and couldn’t locate the eyes immediately. Though it was a bleak thought, he tried to remember how many Kurta clansmen there had been, how many more sets of eyes needed to be found, but he wasn’t certain. His mind echoed what Kurapika had just said, _“When I’m done with this, all this….”_

Leorio wondered if such a day would ever come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user [fizzmouth](http://fizzmouth.tumblr.com) drew [some fanart for this chapter and for chapter 11 (the kissing lesson one).](http://fizzmouth.tumblr.com/post/164041224272/uhh-heres-some-fanart-for-the-fic-practical) It's great, and you should check it out.


	27. It’s a Date

“What the hell kind of impression are you trying to make?” Kurapika asked the mirror. The water dripping from his face had begun to run down his neck as he looked himself in his own, unnaturally dark eyes. He grabbed a towel from the ring next to the sink and intercepted the thin trickle of water before it reached his collar. He proceeded to pat his face dry and let his hair fall forward once more. Finished, sopped up few drops that had landed on the counter, and then tossed the towel into the laundry bin in the corner without a glance.

On the other side of the door, Kurapika heard the sharp, deliberate strike of impatient footsteps coming down the hall. Before the consequent inquiring knock on the door sounded, he’d straightened his jacket and replaced the towel with another from the cabinet. He stepped out just as the person standing at the doorway had begun to ask how much longer he’d be.

“All yours,” said Kurapika with a brusque nod towards the now vacant bathroom. The bodyguard, upon seeing it’d been Kurapika hogging the larger of the floor’s shared bathrooms, shyly assumed a more respectful stance and thanked him, his tone apologetic. Kurapika brushed past without another word and went to his room to continue agonizing alone in the wardrobe mirror.

“How do I make this look like I’m actually trying?” asked Kurapika at his clothes and hair, while also realizing this was perhaps the closest he’d ever felt to a normal teenager. He couldn’t decide on the proper compromise between dressing professionally and dressing attractively. In this country, those tended to look like exactly the same thing to him, but he was confident Leorio would know the difference between the two and judge him for it.

Dating Neon, Kurapika had never needed to think about how he’d looked. He’d never needed to try. Hence, he had no idea what a sufficient amount of effort was. There wasn’t anyone he could imagine asking, either. Basho believed in the tenet of “a great jacket or vest completes every look” to such extremes that a great jacket or vest was often the only piece of clothing that made it onto his torso. Linsen, meanwhile, had retreated from the task completely by insisting on wearing his own country’s dress. This was a move Kurapika sympathized with. He’d been the same way himself before becoming a leader in the mafia.

Kurapika sighed and traced his fingers over the worn hem of a heavy shoulder cape that jutted out from the orderly line of garments hung in his wardrobe. None of the now threadbare clothes he’d travelled the world in were suitable for a date, despite how much more relaxed he felt in them. His view drifted and settled warily on the dark, dusty corner towards the back of the wardrobe where he’d banished everything Neon had ever dragged him out of the house wearing. Perhaps it was worth revisiting some of the less extreme items. Some of the things she’d deem appropriate for brunch dates had been fairly nondescript. It wouldn’t hurt to glance through them.

A half hour later, Kurapika had the wardrobe empty and the bedroom full. He’d begun to realize as he’d searched through everything that no book he’d ever read had even moderately prepared him for puzzling out the nuances of foreign fashion tastes. Defeated, he decided that the only option left was to follow Leorio’s lead and just always wear a suit forever, anywhere he went. He was already halfway there. In fact, now that he was no longer required to blend in with his peers for Neon, he could simply throw out anything that wasn’t related to work. All of it was useless to him now.

With the swift energy and hyper-focus of someone in misery who’d just been giving a pleasantly distracting goal, Kurapika threw himself into the task of collecting items of clothing off the bed, chairs, and desk in his room. He packed it all into two bags, and carried those bags down to housekeeping, where he personally informed the head of laundry that he was tossing a few things out but couldn’t be bothered to figure out where to dispose of clothing properly, so he was leaving it there.

“You realize throwing out all your clothes isn’t going to help you decide anything,” said Senritsu as she passed Kurapika in the hall on his way back from the laundry. “All you’re doing is stalling. You know Leorio won’t care what you wear.”

“But this is a test,” said Kurapika. “The first decision is what image I want to portray, and that image sets the tone for the entire date.”

“And what image is that, now? You’ve thrown out what sounds like eighty-percent of your clothes.”

“Professional and powerful.”

“So you want to make sure your date’s aware that your work is more important than anything else in your life?”

“It’s only fair. Dating is sort of an interview process, right? You’re applying to be someone’s significant other, and you have to let them know what to expect.”

“Relationships are jobs to you?”

“They have a lot in common.”

“I really doubt that’s what Leorio taught you about dating, Kurapika.”

“He taught me to be honest and communicate. There’s nothing more honest than being upfront about the fact that my professional image comes before everything else. If anything, my potential partner needs to know right away that I will always choose work over them. Otherwise, strife will become inevitable between us.”

“I think you failing the date will become pretty inevitable, too. This is the image you want Leorio to have of you? Before he leaves town and goes back to school, you want to show him your professional and powerful side. Your business oriented side? The side that tells him he’s not as important as work?”

Kurapika didn’t like how Senritsu’s words made him feel. He turned to the hall window beside him that framed an inner courtyard of the mansion. His eyes flitted left and right attentively, reading the signs of spring in patches of green and a few early buds that had cracked themselves open into flowers on a teardrop-shaped tree.

“Well, why not?” he asked himself quietly in response to Senritsu. “He already knows it’s true.”

“Kurapika….”

“And anyway,” he interjected, turning back to give Senritsu a quick, closed-lip smile intended to reassure her, “I can’t really fail this date. There isn’t going to be another after it.”

“Just promise me you won’t wear a suit like for work. If Leorio already knows work is more important, what’s the point in being obvious?”

“Okay,” said Kurapika. “Let’s go to the laundry and get my clothes, and you can help me pick something. I’ll get someone to cover your shift for the rest of the afternoon. C’mon.”

* * *

It was hard to tell if Leorio was making a sincere effort, and it annoyed Kurapika, who’d been fretting over his appearance for two whole days, because subjugating every stray hair on his head and eliminating each scuff from his shoes had been an easier problem to address than his fear of the date itself. Leorio, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have suffered half so much over his look. Watching him, Kurapika was unhappy to realize he couldn’t even remember if Leorio had made any special effort to dress up for their practice dates. All he knew was that Leorio was slacking off now, right as it was Kurapika’s turn to date him, and it offended Kurapika deeply.

This was perhaps unreasonable of Kurapika, since the transgression that had upset him was something fairly frivolous. Someone who didn’t know Leorio might not have even noticed it, but Kurapika knew Leorio much too well. Also, Kurapika was in a critical mood. The second his eyes settled on Leorio and noticed what was wrong, he’d clenched his teeth and tilted his head incredulously. Though Leorio was dressed as smartly as ever, his hair was well overdue for a trim and had begun to puff around his head in more of a fuzzy halo than a neatly snipped series of lines. The effect made him look older, but also less mature, which would’ve been an intriguing paradox to ponder if Kurapika hadn’t taken it as a show of disrespect. It wasn’t Leorio’s best look by far, and Kurapika wasn’t regretting having reserved a private room for them to eat in instead of someplace more public.

“Did you forget the time or something? That’s not like you,” said Kurapika, hazarding a guess as to why Leorio hadn’t tried so hard.

Leorio didn’t seem to notice the look of disdain that followed him as he entered and took a seat across the table. Kurapika had been waiting for him, alone and silently dreading his arrival, because his schedule had been too tight for him to take the time to travel across town and hold open a car door in a gentlemanly manner for a man who it turned out hadn’t even bothered to make himself fully presentable. If Kurapika had gone to pick up Leorio himself, the date probably wouldn’t have progressed any further than the car door, as he’d have slammed it in Leorio’s face and demanded a tad more effort from him. Wasn’t Leorio the expert? Wasn’t he supposed know how to make a good impression?

“I didn’t forget,” said Leorio. He leaned on the table with his elbow, tired, his brows knit tightly together. “I wouldn’t forget this.”

Without warning and quickly enough to leave Kurapika dumbfounded, the petty, insulted feeling pulsing through him abated. His teeth unclenched, and he was no longer mad. Something about Leorio’s face, his stance, the sound of his voice, had exhausted the fiery rise of Kurapika’s short temper. He saw that it was unreasonable to react to a haircut so intensely. He realized, embarrassed, that it wasn’t really the hair itself that bothered him. Consequently, his initial umbrage at the perceived insult reverted back into the quiet fatigue that had possessed him all day while anticipating the approaching evening. His expression soon mirrored Leorio’s own. In the end they were both the same.

“You look…rougher than usual,” said Kurapika diplomatically.

“My hair, right?” asked Leorio. He ran a hand through it probingly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe it’s because I normally see you more put together….”

“Damn. I thought I still had a couple of days left before it got too long,” said Leorio. He tugged at a few strands, making a disappointed face. “Shit. Well, you see, the people in this city don’t cut it right, so I’m just going to wait until I’m back home tomorrow. I don’t want to waste three-thousand jenny on something I know I’m going to hate. I’m sorry if it looks that bad. It doesn’t really hold my normal style when it gets this long.”

“Are you trying to test how gracious I am, or to see if I’m so desperate to please that I won’t point out how bad your hair is? Because I’m not going to be artificially polite to you because of a date. I know you enough to know how you look when you don’t make a special effort. To be perfectly honest, it’s a little insulting because it makes me feel like a fool for trying harder.”

“Nah. I’m not testing you. If this were our first date, yeah, you’d be really rude right now. But don’t worry about that stuff. This is just you and me. I’m not grading you. This is just dinner.”

“But I invited you out as a test on what I’ve learned.”

“No, you invited me out because you wanted to see me before you vanish into whatever dark underbelly of society you need to submerge yourself in to achieve your goals. Dating was just the cover story that gave you the courage to ask. To be more accurate, though, we should call this a going away dinner. I’m just sorry your last memory of me is going to be with shitty hair, though. I didn’t think it’d be so obvious. Sorry.”

“No, this is a date. You told me, remember? You invite a person to do something with you and they accept, and you hang out. The only difference is I can request to hold your hand and tell you whatever ridiculous thing comes to mind about how good you look. And beside your hair, you look great. I’m glad you didn’t dress for this like you dressed with Neon.”

Leorio grinned, losing a little of the nervous, uncertain air that had permeated the space around him since he’d taken a seat. “A lot of tables I passed on the way back here were more stylish than what I’m wearing now,” he said. “I was feeling underdressed. Even you, who doesn’t care about how you look, are more put together than I am. How embarrassing.”

“Then I guess the private room was the right choice. You don’t have to worry who sees you here.”

“It’s a bit intimidating, though, this room,” said Leorio, glancing around. “The table is for four, but it’s just us two. You can barely even hear the ambient noise of the rest of the restaurant back here, which means those people out there can’t hear us at all. It’s very secretive. Too private. Feels like I ought to be discussing the operations of my criminal enterprise with one of my capos. Or maybe you’re pointing a gun at me secretly under the table, trying to persuade me under the guise of a dinner to give up all the information I know about your enemy’s movements.”

Kurapika lifted his hands so Leorio could see them. “No gun pointed at you,” he said. “I promise. I’ll keep my hands where you can see them.”

“Thanks. But really, it’s just like something from a movie,” said Leorio. He leaned back in his chair to get a better look around. “I’ve never been in one of the private back rooms before. It feels like I ought to be breaking some kind of law. Or a waiter is going to sit down and start dealing blackjack and hand us cigars so we can look tough and do some unsanctioned gambling.”

“I can’t say I haven’t seen stuff like you’ve been saying in private back rooms and lounges while working for the Nostrade family, but you and I are just here to eat for our date. And it is a date, okay? I didn’t want anyone to bother us and ruin it. Also I can afford a private meal, so why not?”

“Excellent, then. I’ll have you know I have zero intention of being a cheap date. My most important requirement for being taken out is that the person inviting me can afford me.”

“As you wish. It’s my treat. But I’m wondering now who’s taken you on a date before if you’re so picky about them being ready to spend big.”

Leorio blushed. Kurapika was impressed how quickly he’d become flustered.

“Ha. Well. No-one, actually. Just you,” admitted Leorio.

“What?”

“I’ve never been taken on a date before.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You know I've never been asked, so obviously I've also never been taken. It’s incredibly weird. I mean, you aren’t doing anything wrong. I just…it’s different, being in the position of the one invited. It’s not super different, but it’s…different enough.”

Kurapika began to laugh, uncertain if the feeling flooding him was mirth, secret relief, or just tickled disbelief at the ridiculousness of the entire situation he’d unwittingly put them in. It hadn’t occurred to him the obvious fact that Leorio, the one with the dating experience and overabundant advice, had never actually had his role reversed from being the leader of the date to the follower. Leorio was right that Kurapika should've anticipated it, but somehow he'd never made the connection.

“Then, I guess this is technically a first for both of us, since even my dates with Neon were planned out with her in advance without depending entirely on me alone. Hopefully I don’t let you down.”

“I don’t think you could.”

“Don’t be so sure. Take the menu and order something. I have plans for after dinner, so keep that in mind.”

“ _Plans_?”

“Don’t give me that look. I mean we’re going somewhere else after this.”

“Seriously? Wow, now I feel worse about this hair. I didn’t expect you to try so hard the first time out.”

“This is probably the only time out, so of course I put in some effort. Now, decide what you want to eat, or I can call the waiter to offer some recommendations. We’re going to have dinner and enjoy a date. That what we’re here for before anything else.”

* * *

True to his word, Leorio didn’t shy from ordering the most exotic and priciest items on the menu. His rationale, he explained as they waited for the first dish to arrive, was that he’d never have such a chance again. It wasn’t every day a mafia prince invited a regular guy like him to dinner. He needed to take full advantage of it and ride his brush with luxury and wealth as far as it would take him.

“Between you and Neon, I might just have got used the high-life,” said Leorio as he cracked open the jagged-edged shell of a crustacean more than twice the size of his own face. Two waiters had offered to perform the operation for him, but Leorio promised them he was stronger than he looked. The stunned expressions on both their faces as Leorio cracked the first spiny claw in a single smooth motion with his bare hands more than attested to the freakishness of his strength. Kurapika, who hadn’t been surprised, only smiled knowingly and nodded to let the  the waiters know they could leave.

“How am I supposed to return to the real world in this state?” asked Leorio. He tested, approved of, and then poured a dark sauce accompanying the dish into the body of the shell he’d opened neatly like a bowl before emptying the rest of the leg meat into it along with a little cup of greenery and minced vegetables that Kurapika had at first glance assumed to be a side dish. Kurapika secretly observed Leorio as he underwent the entire process in detail, mesmerized as much as he was baffled, and wondering where Leorio had ever learned to eat this animal in such a way. Every piece of specialized cutlery set on the table to aid him went along perfectly, step-by-step, with Leorio’s approach, revealing to Kurapika that Leorio’s approach was actually the intended one, and not some useless, laborious process Leorio had invented to mask his unfamiliarity with the dish.

If Kurapika hadn’t been sure waiters were still watching, gasping in horror at Leorio’s brutish strength, he would’ve gaped openly himself and asked about what Leorio was doing. Instead, he directed his attention back down to his own thankfully simple rice dish and struggled not to choke on the mix of jealousy and gloom that seemed to constrict his esophagus and upset his stomach. A little more than usual, Kurapika felt like he’d never fully understand how the outside world truly operated. There would always be something he didn’t and couldn’t know, and in those small ways, missteps he didn’t even know to look for, he would continually prove to others that he didn’t entirely belong.

Leorio, feeling the silence strongly in the enclosed room, continued talking to fill it. Indeed, he hadn’t ceased talking throughout the entire procedure his meal had required of him.

“You’ve both tainted me with these glimpses of your luxurious lives,” he said as he stirred in the condiments he’d added to the meat and coral hued lumps of roe. “Even just getting to see the mafia junior edition Neon hung out with, all whiling away the time in endless diversion and excess—well, according to our high school textbooks, civil wars in my country have been instigated for less.”

“It can be a bit much,” admitted Kurapika. “There’s a standard of appearance to maintain in this culture when you have money and power….” Given the circumstances, Kurapika immediately felt like a bit of a dunce trying to explain a culture that wasn’t his but which he participated in daily, especially after watching Leorio so masterfully prove his greater competence in it through the mere act of consuming a plate of food. “In this part of the world especially, mafia fronts are required to possess a certain glamor. In other places it’s more prudent to maintain an image of being a part of the community rather than separate from it. There are even parts of the world where the local government is so ineffective that certain regions end up dominated by organized crime, and you can’t tell the crime bosses from the politicians.”

“I believe the inability to make that particular distinction between criminals and politicians is universal.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Leorio conceded easily. “Speaking of glamor and your tough mafia image, though, it was a huge relief to me that you made an effort to wear something other than your work uniform. More glamor, less tough. On the other hand, my assumption that you’d fail to make a special effort led me come at this with far too low of an expectation. I want to apologize for underestimating your dedication to this date, Kurapika. I should’ve known better. You’re always going on about the strength of your resolve. I should’ve known you weren’t going to treat this like another date with Neon.”

Kurapika shrugged. “I’m not mad about your hair anymore,” he said, being perfectly honest. “It’s grown on me over the past half hour. I don’t even notice anymore. It’s not as bad as you not shaving for two days when you decided to teach me how to kiss properly.”

Leorio sucked in a breath as though he’d been reminded of something uncomfortable. “Ah yes, that,” he said. “Sorry. It’s not like I forgot, though. There’s no chance in hell I would’ve forgot you were coming over to kiss me. I just…thought it would be awkward to shave especially for that.”

“Not shaving would be more awkward, Leorio. It’s much more obvious you’re kissing your male best friend if he hasn’t shaved. That seems like something that would’ve make that experience worse if I wasn’t attracted to men.”

“You’re typically attracted to men?”

“That’s a stupid question considering you’re a man.”

“I mean only men?”

“Honestly the only people I’ve ever liked have been male, so yes. That’s how it is.”

“Huh. I guess I sort of thought you just liked me because you’d picked up on my signals. I didn’t really consider that it might’ve gone differently if I’d been a woman. I guess we’re different in that aspect. I would’ve liked you either way.”

Kurapika took one more bite of his meal and then put his fork down. He set his chin in his hand and looked Leorio over. Leorio diminished slightly under his scrutiny, feeling suddenly very exposed.

“Are you trying to imagine if I were a woman now?”

“Yeah.”

“And would you still like me?”

“No.”

Leorio winced. “Well, I guess we aren’t the same,” he mumbled, and went back to picking through the puddle of sauce at the bottom of the shell for errant crumbles of roe and stringy crustacean flesh.

“It’s nothing personal.”

“I know, I know.”

Kurapika smiled, touched by Leorio’s disappointment. “I can’t always tell if I’m offending you,” he said, “or if you just react by grimacing at everything even mildly unpleasant.”

“Am I grimacing now?”

“You always do. Sometimes for like a few seconds, sometimes for longer. Just now you did it.”

“Huh.”

“And now again.”

“Damn.”

“Is it even conscious?”

“No. No, it isn’t.”

Kurapika buried his face in the hand previously holding his chin and laughed into it at the now sustained look of vexation affixed to Leorio’s face. He didn’t know why, but every time he hazarded a glance and caught sight of knit brows, narrowed eyes, or the smallest downturn of a frown in the corner of Leorio’s mouth, he wanted to laugh at him. The notion that Leorio wasn’t entirely aware of how sour his expression could turn in an instant was oddly hilarious. Leorio demanded to know what was so funny, but Kurapika could only shake his head and look away without answering.

“It’s one thing to laugh at me to my face about my face,” said Leorio. “It’s another to laugh so hard.”

“It’s not personal, it’s just….”

“Nothing’s personal. Looking me in the face just makes you convulse with laughter. Not a thing I should take personally about that.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t even know why it’s so funny.”

“Ah, well, I suppose I shouldn’t complain so long as you’re smiling. You look a lot better now than the last time I saw you at the airport when I said goodbye to Neon and everyone. You wouldn’t even look at me then. I was expecting you to cancel this date, even.”

“I made the mistake of telling Senritsu about it before the ball. She made sure I kept my promise.”

“You wouldn’t have kept it otherwise?”

“I have no idea if I would’ve. Senritsu spurring me on permitted me not to have to think about if I wanted to go through with this or not. I didn’t have a choice.”

“I guess it doesn’t really matter now. You’re here, you’re laughing at me. I supposed I should just be glad that how pissed you looked when I walked in this room didn’t set the mood for the entire evening.”

“I’m glad about that, too. You looked miserable when you showed up.”

“Then I guess we both didn’t come at this expecting much.”

“We parted at a rough time. I’d say it was my fault, but you already told me not to blame myself, so I can’t say anything like that.”

“Damn right.”

“But anyway, that’s neither here nor there at the moment. Senritsu told me not to think about that stuff while out with you, so how about we leave that matter alone for now?”

“Yeah, the food is getting cold. Cangrilón crab is at it’s best warm.”

“Then we’d better hurry up.”

Kurapika ate what remained of his rice, though he didn’t have much of an appetite left. The meal was drawing to its end, and as it did, a new anxiety began to grow within him. The plan he’d made to do more than share a meal with Leorio now seemed far too ambitious. He was start to doubt everything, from his clothes to his dinner order, all the way to the nerve he’d had to even follow through with a stupid proposition for a date he’d made while partly drunk on the trip to the Moreau Ball.

Neither Kurapika nor Leorio ordered dessert as the plates were taken away, though Kurapika did suggest they have coffee. After the coffee came and went, it was time to leave. Kurapika had hardly touched his cup. Not sure what to say once the dinner was finally, undeniably over, he announced with forced enthusiasm that things were proceeding right on schedule. This comment reminded Leorio that they were supposed to head somewhere else after dinner. When Kurapika realized that Leorio had actually forgot there was more than dinner, he wished he could take his words back and retroactively cancel phase two of his plan. It was too late, however. Kurapika had no choice but to commit fully, just as Senritsu had forced him to commit to his promise to take Leorio on a date in the first place.

Both Kurapika and Leorio rose at the same time from the table and headed for the door. At the door, they both paused to allow the other to pass first. Kurapika silently insisted Leorio ought to go ahead. Leorio didn’t move and seemed confused. Kurapika told him flatly that, since Leorio was the invitee, Kurapika had to be the one to step back politely and let him go. Embarrassed, but without any good argument against it, Leorio nodded and walked quickly through the doorway. Before he could head any random direction he pleased, Kurapika placed a hand on his upper arm and led him to an alternate door along a side street, different from the one Leorio has used to enter, where the valet would bring around the car.

Leorio ungracefully tripped over his feet trying to keep up. He wasn’t at all acclimated to being the one escorted through a restaurant by another person, especially not Kurapika, who in all their previous dates had followed Leorio’s lead. Leorio’s face flushed in embarrassment as he searched the main dining room for anyone who might be watching him make a fool of himself. Kurapika smiled at him when he caught his eye. He considered Leorio’s newfound awkwardness endearing, and Leorio told him that he was cruel. As they stepped outside, Leorio was overcome by a dark mood.

“This is seriously different from what usually happens,” muttered Leorio once he’d taken his seat beside Kurapika in the back of Kurapika’s chauffeured car. He didn’t know the driver, but was too flustered to ask Kurapika if the person was new. As soon as the car began to move, he crossed his arms and stared sullenly out the window, trying to recoup a bit of his lost pride by acting aloof.

“Don’t be such a child, Leorio. You can’t be the one making all the decisions on all the dates. If you continue to act like this, I’m going to think I’m doing a bad job.”

“You haven’t been doing a bad job,” said Leorio with a sigh. “Don’t even worry. I told you already. I’m not even judging that.”

“But you should be judging me. Otherwise, I’ll have tried this hard for nothing.”

“It’s fine. You don’t really even have to impress me anyway, you know? I already liked you. Even the simplest date in the world is impressive if you’re with someone you already like. In that case it doesn’t even matter what the date is, you’re just happy to be spending time together.”

...Or so Leorio said. The expression on his agitated face, however, seemed decidedly opposed to happiness.

“If you’re happy to spend time with me, then you should try to improve your bad mood,” said Kurapika, calling Leorio out on his contradiction of words and attitude immediately.

“But it’s really hard when you’re treating me all weird, though.”

“I’m only treating you how you treated me on our previous dates.”

“But. You’re too polite. You’re too…I dunno. It’s like visiting a friend you fell out of touch with and in the interim they get married, so even though it’s your friend and you’re buddies, there’s like an odd formality to everything because they have a wife or a kid, and you don’t know the wife or the kid that well, so you have to be relaxed with your friend to be friendly, but also make a good impression on everyone else.”

Kurapika stared at him. “I’m…uh…I’m sorry but that example doesn’t particularly resonate with me.”

“It’s artificial, I mean. You’re treating me like someone you have to impress. It’s nothing like how you’ve ever treated me before. It’s so weird.”

“Really? I’m following your example. Taking your advice. It’s a little embarrassing for me, too. It was also awkward for me back when you did this stuff and took me on dates, but I didn’t complain as much as you are now. I got over it. You gave me flowers and candy on the day you were teaching me about not showing up empty-handed to more formal dates, remember that? And I felt like I was going to drop dead of embarrassment, but I didn’t complain.”

Leorio relaxed his posture as he thought back. “Shit. You’re right,” he said, “and I do clearly remember the look on your face, too. But, you know….” Leorio shrugged, ashamed even as the small curl of a repressed smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. “It was cute to see you get all embarrassed by that. I kind of did it on purpose, to be honest. I thought…I thought it was funny.”

“Well, the tables have turned. And let me tell you, you’re making a fool of yourself so far. You’re so rude you didn’t even thank me for the gift I sent you before. Seriously, if I were the one judging this date, you’d have failed ten times over already. While it seems you might know better than me about dating, you clearly have no idea how to be dated.”

Leorio turned away from the window and gaped at Kurapika, trying to remember what Kurapika was talking about. “A gift?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t bring it with me because it would’ve been awkward to carry around all evening, but I’m confident I followed your advice exactly and sent you some flowers and a box of ties.”

A sudden realization dawned across Leorio’s face as the color slowly drained from it. “Wait. Damn. I remember. I didn’t realize that was for me. I didn’t open the box. I thought it was something someone sent Senritsu.”

Kurapika sighed. “You mean you didn’t even read the card that had your name on it?”

“No?”

“Wow. You really do underestimate me. Such a shame.”

“I just didn’t expect that you’d literally follow my advice so closely and send me a gift.”

“I’m very disappointed in you, Leorio.”

“I’m sorry,” said Leorio, grabbing the back of his neck nervously. “Men just don’t usually get sent flowers where I’m from. If there hadn’t been flowers, probably I wouldn’t have automatically assumed it was for Senritsu, I guess.”

“I don’t know why you’d assume that. I mean, they were astrolirio, hardly the most romantic or feminine flower. They’re almost entirely leaves. I thought the different yellows suited you more than something romantic like pink or red.”

“I get it, I get it, but cut me some slack, Kurapika. I don’t get sent flowers or invited on dates _ever_. I haven’t even received a gift for my birthday since I was seventeen. It never would’ve crossed my mind that you’d have even attempted to send me something, and that’s not because I don’t have high expectations of you, but because it’s me, and no-one sends me shit. I’m really sorry I didn’t realize it, though. I probably would’ve got my hair cut and worn one of those ties if I’d noticed you were trying that hard. I mean, it suddenly makes a lot more sense now why you seemed so pissed when I showed up.”

Kurapika smiled slowly. He didn’t know what to say, but it was impossible to remain annoyed with Leorio, even though Leorio was such a lackluster date when he wasn’t the one calling the shots.

“I didn’t realize you were so respectful of Senritsu’s privacy,” said Kurapika gently.

“I didn’t even question for a moment that the delivery might not be for her, I swear.”

Kurapika rested a reassuring hand on Leorio’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. It was a little patronizing of him, he knew, but Leorio didn’t brush the hand away. Kurapika took it back himself a moment later before bending forward in his seat and lowering his head. Without a word, he began running his hands through his hair erratically so that it no longer lay as orderly and smooth. He sat up soon after and loosened his tie before undoing the top button of his shirt and letting the collar fall open at the top. Finished, he sat back in the seat and looked at Leorio.

“Okay. We match.”

“What? I’m not that much of a mess.”

“Actually, on second thought, I’m just going to get rid of this tie completely,” said Kurapika. He reached up and lifted his chin. Leorio grabbed his right hand to stop him before he could tug the knot loose.

“You’ve done enough damage.”

“Not nearly. I hate ties. They’re the first thing I lose when I need to relax.”

“Ah well, in that case, get rid of it. You need to relax.”

Leorio let go, and Kurapika continued with removing the tie, watching Leorio closely as he did so. He laid it haphazardly on the seat between them, letting it slip, half-falling, in a shimmering trail from his neck to the seat cushion. Leorio took it immediately and folded it into fours before placing it back down with a considerable amount of care Kurapika lacked for accessories. Kurapika smiled at him and told him “good job”, as if he’d trained Leorio to attend to his ties. Leorio punched him in the shoulder and called him a brat, but Kurapika didn’t stop silently laughing at him.

“Now that we’re even, I’m judging you really hard,” Leorio warned Kurapika, waving his finger at him sternly for emphasis. “You better impress the shit out of me for the rest of this date. I’m picky as hell, and because it’s you, my expectations are through the damn roof. No pressure.”

Kurapika said he accepted the challenge and wouldn’t let Leorio down. The anxiety that had held a place in his chest since the dinner had ended slowly dissipated. The rest of the drive he spent reminding Leorio that Leorio was a terrible date, all the while keeping a protective had over the spot where Leorio had hit him lightly, and threatening to take him home instead if he didn’t behave like a grown-up. 

Along with the anxiety, Kurapika felt most of his other preoccupations and stresses fall away as well. He allowed himself to simply enjoy Leorio’s company and laugh at the stupid comments Leorio occasionally made about the names of streets the car passed. It was beginning to make sense to him what Leorio had said about any date, even the simplest, being enjoyable if it was with someone he already liked. Someone who liked him back, too. Someone, he hated to admit, he’d continue to like, always, even if it wasn’t good for him, because the truth was that he was stupidly sort of in in love with Leorio, and that was going to take much, much longer to get over. Kurapika could admit to himself that he’d fallen in love with Leorio by now, and it was the best and conversely the most terrible thing he’d ever had to realize.

Instead of dwelling too long on it, Kurapika listened to Leorio tell him the embarrassing story of a battle lost a hundred years ago by his country against an army led by a general with the name of the street they’d just passed. The most important thing was listen to him now, to be together, because soon they wouldn’t be. The date would end. Nothing would last. There was too much left for Kurapika to do, and no room for Leorio to take a part in it. Like Ramzi’s daughter, Kurapika would leave him behind, perhaps never to return. Because in the book of Hunter D, once Hunter D departed, there was no mention of Ramzi, his daughter, or even their entire country, ever again.


	28. Over and Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter was lengthened and a piano scene was inserted for my beta as a thank-you for being so great (and putting up with how busy and the lazy I got right at the end and not writing this chapter for like a month). It's just my beta was so hopeful that I'd make Leorio play piano at some point ever since I mentioned it ten thousand chapters ago.

The car stopped just past the gates of a private estate barely far enough out of the city to see the stars through the nubilous orange haze of the urban nighttime sky. Leorio wondered aloud if Kurapika and he were trespassing as they stepped out and walked around the vacant box of an old mansion rather than passing through it like invited guests. Kurapika pointed to the Hunter Association emblem hanging from a long balcony on the second floor, where it dominated the space between a flag of State and a banner with a family crest. This sign meant Hunters could come and go as they pleased, though Kurapika admitted he’d also called ahead to the family that owned the estate to be polite. The house itself, he explained, was uninhabited, and behind the restored façade and a few storerooms towards the back, it was actually quite dangerous and unstable inside.

The grounds of the estate were not as forgotten as the residence they encircled. There was a lively glow of light emanating from behind the unlit mansion, signifying that whoever owned the estate had set their priorities to external rather than internal development. Once they’d made their way around the building, Kurapika revealed with an unceremoniously brief wave that the final destination was this, a royal night garden, and one of the oldest and most extensive still existing in the modern world.

Kurapika didn’t understand why he felt compelled to expose Leorio to even more nature after the failure of sending him a flower arrangement composed more of greenery than blooms. All he could imagine was that flowers, plants, and the great outdoors made him, Kurapika, feel more at ease, even if Leorio didn’t match such surroundings in any way. Leorio’s suits and street-smart manner would always expose him as a city-dweller wherever he went. As the two of them continued on to traverse the garden paths, Kurapika supposed that the incongruity just might be the appeal of it. He watched Leorio stand back at one point with his hands on his hips to admire a garden alcove housing a murmuring fountain that glittered in the blue and white specks of electric light from a half-covered lamp. Even in a domesticated garden, marked everywhere with signs of human influence and control, Leorio was out of place, like a skyscraper in the middle of a village or a shopping mall hanging from a misty cliff-face too wild for habitation. Kurapika admired how Leorio was able to move smoothly through the mismatched nature around him, as comfortable here as on any street, unconcerned that he’d gone so utterly out of his natural habitat in only a few short minutes of arriving. Kurapika wondered what it took to be so open and easygoing in life, so sure of oneself to the point that the world around could shift and change completely, and yet Leorio would remain as he was, doggedly pursuing his own life’s goals, as if who he was and what he wanted superseded whatever else might be going on around him.

Kurapika realized couldn’t have imagined anywhere else to take Leorio. Nothing else highlighted so well the best of what Kurapika saw in him, setting in his memory the image that Kurapika most wanted to take away from tonight to sustain him in the unknowable length of time they would be apart starting from tomorrow.

“I didn’t know stuff like this was still around,” said Leorio when Kurapika caught up and joined him quietly at his side. “In my country, the _grotto di lums_ disappeared a long time ago. It’s interesting to see stuff like this in person. How old is this place?”

“Parts of it are older than others, so it’s hard to say. The origin of this particular garden was from a garden that was stolen from your country during one of the wars between this country and yours, actually.”

“Wait. The same from that ridiculous story we have about a garden that was ransomed and no-one paid it? _That was true?_ I didn’t think you could actually kidnap a garden.”

“I think it was like that. Even your entire country is cheap.”

“And now it’s a park?”

“No, it’s privately owned. One of the area mafia clans acquired the estate from what used to be a noble family in this region. That family’s ancestor and his soldiers ‘kidnapped’ the garden.”

“Huh,” said Leorio, casting a new, more appreciative eye at the plants and lights around him. “Little did that idiot know these are more expensive to maintain than they’re worth, and my country has had a long history of steadily going broke since before the turn of the last century. Getting ‘kidnapped’ was probably the only thing that saved this from us.”

Kurapika shrugged and turned back onto the path to continue deeper into the garden as it wound down a gentle incline before eventually terminating at some mysterious point at its opposite end. Leorio followed after, wiping his glasses on a handkerchief and then wrapping them up to tuck them into a pocket sewn into the inner lining of his jacket.

“And yet…” Leorio wondered aloud, “…for some reason, a part of me feels like this ought to be returned. Huh. I guess that’s my national pride being irrational.”

“The Hunter’s Association sent a team to evaluate the condition of the garden,” recited Kurapika in a slow, official manner, like the voice a textbook would have if it could speak, “and they deemed that, given the difficulty, expense, and the current political climate, it would be unsafe to move the garden back to its homeland. When the family that owned it started falling into debt, the Hunter’s Association stepped in and maintained the grounds to preserve the garden as a natural and cultural treasure. That’s why the house is falling apart, but the garden is immaculate. The boss that owns the place pays a percentage to maintain the garden himself, while the Association and the national government pay another part. Representatives from the Hunter Association visit at least twice a year to make sure it doesn’t fall into neglect. The Association also donated funds to the family running this place when three of their organization heads were killed in York Shin, in order to guarantee the family would survive the period of infighting that resulted from replacing one of those leaders.”

“Really? That’s an awful lot of money going into some gimmicky nocturnal plants.”

“That’s because certain species growing here are rare and won’t survived being transplanted. There are also several varieties of glowing insects that only exist in this place, since they were developed for these gardens, and most died out when the other gardens in your country became impractical to maintain and were repurposed.”

“My country invented special bugs? Special enough for the Hunter Association to invest time and money into preserving them? Are you serious?”

“Totally serious. I’m rather surprised you don’t know anything about this yourself. This is part of your country’s history, Leorio.”

Leorio laughed. “It’s history like over a hundred years ago, yeah,” he said. “I don’t know everything about my country that far back. It’s not the same place anymore, and this kind of stuff reminds you why.”

“Why?”

Leorio stopped laughing. His brows pinched together in thought, considering something he didn’t like. “When I see these things,” he said, “a part of me suddenly agrees with every single war and revolt that ever occurred in the past because…what were people thinking with this kind of stuff? There was probably a wall around it, you know, privately owned like now, and outside in the village the working people only knew it existed in rumors. Not that it’s a bad garden, mind you, but when you think about the level of excess required…. _Water is a finite resource_.”

Kurapika nodded. “Do they teach you to see it like that in school?”

Leorio flinched from the blow of how quickly Kurapika had got to the point. “Well…uh, learning it like that shows us the present is better, improved. But that’s a lie. For people like me, things were never good. The only thing different is that now there’s a Hunter Exam.”

“What would you’ve done if you hadn’t passed the exam?”

Leorio didn’t respond, but picked up the pace with a meaningful shrug. Kurapika believed it, that the answer was something Leorio hadn’t thought much about. Leorio wouldn’t have wanted to think about it. Leorio only advanced, step by step, because it was the only thing that would change the unfortunate circumstances that had led to every regrettable, unchangeable facet of the past. He didn't look back and waste time on asking himself what would have been if things had been different.

“I wish I felt more nostalgic about this,” said Leorio after letting curiosity overcome him and sticking his head into a long crevice in the wall. He’d discovered a wealth of twinkling worms hanging from the ceiling and providing their own alien interpretation of the night sky for the phosphorescent beetles cautiously picking their long-legged way over the pebbled ground below. “It’s really nice garden, though,” he assured Kurapika. “Everywhere you look you discover something new. I like it. That there’s just this one left, and that it’s so far away from its home, seems fitting. My country is no longer the same place that created this. We don’t even speak the same language as then.”

“Doesn’t your country speak the Hunter language?”

“It’s what everyone knows and uses a lot, but it’s not ours. We’re in the same situation as most of the world these days. We learn the Hunter language as kids and use it with people who aren’t from our region. Sometimes, we even speak the Hunter language better than our other languages. It’s just the easier option when you live in a city or move around for work.”

“But you speak both.”

“I speak like three.”

“Oh. I thought you only knew two.”

“I don’t really make a big deal of the third one.”

“Why not? Is it uncommon?”

“It’s associated with crime and a lower class background.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…. Though the ironic thing is, the people who brought that language to my country were the ones responsible for these gardens.” Leorio hunched down, pointing between a pair of two thin trees with twig-like branches covered by a bluish-green bark that peeled off at the edges like curled parchment revealing a yellow underside. “Like see that arch over there? Those are words, not just decorative patterns on it. I can’t read much because it’s not really a language I ever learned to read, but I have a general idea because I’ve heard a version of the poem before. There’s a famous line about the sun making an arch over the world. It’s used all the time to decorated gardens and archways that are outside. I guess it was a real hit three hundred years ago. You see it all over the place.”

Kurapika went ahead, approaching the arch solemnly, as if it held some mysterious, religious significance meriting his utmost respect. He looked over the patterns Leorio had assured him were words, but he couldn’t see it. If the shapes were letters, they were stylized to the point of illegibility. The sum of what was written didn’t seem long enough to be much of a poem, either, unless it was like the poems from Basho’s country, as succinct as the quick and decisive strokes his pen made to compose them. Kurapika heard Leorio begin to speak up behind him, but as he turned to look over in acknowledgement that he was listening, he realized he didn’t understand the words.

“That sounds a lot longer than this looks,” said Kurapika, pointing to the arch above him.

“They tend to,” said Leorio. He then looked Kurapika in the eye and said something else. Kurapika stared back blankly. After a moment, Leorio grinned, and the grin became a short laugh.

“Sorry, I was testing that you really have no idea what I said. It’s hard to guess what you do and don’t know, since you’ve studied so much. I just said something kind of dumb to catch you off guard and see if you’d react.”

“I don’t secretly know everything, Leorio.”

“Yeah right. You knew the tribal tattoos of unmarried women in the forested regions outside Zaban City. Who can guess what you’ll know besides that?”

“Everyone was told once the applications were accepted that the Hunter Exam site would be in Zaban. I merely researched the area and the various cultures that could be found there. I’m not an encyclopedia of random world knowledge. I was just prepared.”

“And that’s why we’re here, right? You ascertained my mom’s region from all the stuff I gave Senritsu, and this place seemed fitting.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Then be honest: Are you sure you don’t know what I just said, or are you just practicing your poker face?”

Kurapika rolled his eyes at Leorio. “I didn’t understand,” he promised. “I told you. I thought you only knew the Hunter language and your national one. You really don’t give away the third.”

“I make a point not to, what with its reputation,” Leorio agreed. He was suddenly suspicious. “But that also means you know my national language enough that you can tell.”

“It’s true. I studied about where everyone was from. Whale Island, Padokia….”

“Even our national languages.”

“Not well enough to speak any of them. Just enough to be familiar.”

Using his national language, Leorio immediately asked Kurapika if he was fucking serious, and Kurapika smiled and nodded. Leorio asked him if his hair was yellow and his eyes were black. Kurapika nodded in agreement with the yellow hair, but made and uncertain gesture at the black eyes. Leorio chuckled, looking mildly impressed.

“You little over-achiever. Damn. Why did you do so much work?”

“I don’t know. It’s not a lot of work, really. It makes me feel closer to everyone. It’s something related to all of you, so it’s like getting to know you all better even when we’re apart and I don’t have time to talk to anyone.”

Leorio’s eyes widened as he found himself staring, momentarily stunned speechless, into Kurapika’s own. He took half a step in Kurapika’s direction, but stopped himself and went to collapse weakly into a nearby bench instead. He expression was perplexed and unsure, as though he’s just learned the most astonishing fact and needed a moment to process it and question what it meant to him. Kurapika offered a warm smile he wasn’t certain Leorio saw and went to sit down beside him. He was surprised when Leorio reached over and took his hand in his. His heart began to beat faster in fearful anticipation mingled with excitement of what might happen next. Leorio, as though unaware of Kurapika catching his breath and going still, remained staring down the path perpendicular to the bench, following its lantern-lined view all the way down to where turned left at a rustic door in the garden wall.

Leorio sighed.

“Listen,” said Leorio in a serious voice that caused the tightness in Kurapika’s chest to ache. “Just listen. You won’t understand, and even I’m going to have trouble explaining it the right way, but just hear me out. There’s a lot I want to say, but there’s never going to be a good time to say it, so I’m going to settle with a compromise. Senritsu understands people perfectly without words, you know, so perhaps you’ll understand the gist even if I say it all in words you don’t know. At the same time, thankfully, you won’t know exactly what it is, so it won’t weigh on you so much, and I won’t have any reason to lie.”

“What?”

Leorio took a deep breath and, squeezing Kurapika’s hand tightly for courage, began to speak. Kurapika didn’t understand. The words were mumbling, more a tempo than a collection of intelligible sound. It sounded like a language meant to be uttered quickly, something abbreviated where the words trailed into each other, tripping over their own endings in their haste and staggering forward to catch themselves as even more syllables rushed in behind them and pushed them aside. Bursts of thoughts raced past punctuated by pauses where Leorio would glance up at nothing as though letting his brain catch up with the mouth that had finished articulating sooner than anticipated and was stuck on standby waiting for the next idea to take form. A few times Leorio laughed lightly and rubbed his eyebrow in a shyly nervous gesture, embarrassed by something he was talking about that Kurapika couldn’t imagine. Judging by tone in these instances, Leorio was struggling to express something very difficult for him to admit. Occasionally he would look apologetic, but mostly he looked worn out. By the end, his eyes were watering, and, after another nervous laugh that had been clearly directed at himself, he was completely silent.

“Huh,” said Kurapika into a lengthening quiet pierced only by the sounds of nocturnal insects singing and calling out to each other. “I didn’t think it would be so much.”

“Ha, me neither.”

“Is…uh, was that all?”

“As much as I could think of. I think I covered all my bases.”

“Whatever those were.”

“Hey, call me crazy, but it’s definitely given me a stronger sense of closure now.”

“And why exactly was it so long?”

Leorio shrugged and looked away.

“Just give me a hint, a tiny hint,” pressed Kurapika as Leorio let go of his hand and stood up. Kurapika hopped up as well and hurried to follow him down the path. “Don’t be so mysterious. It’s not like you.”

“The whole point was that you wouldn’t understand,” said Leorio. He reached his hand back for Kurapika to take it, but Kurapika turned him down. Leorio pretended to be injured as he brought his hand back to his side. “And really, it was so much that I barely remember a lot of it myself, honestly. It really couldn’t have been all that great if I’ve forgot it so quickly.”

“You liar,” was all Kurapika had to say.

“Prove it.”

Kurapika sighed in frustration and buried his hands in his pockets as he caught up and matched Leorio’s pace at his side. They continued on over the rest of the track around the garden until it brought them all the way back to the house. Leorio suggested one more circuit, since he’d probably never visit this garden again, and Kurapika agreed it was a good idea. Leorio spent the second time around commenting more on flowers and garden features and recounting his country’s famous wars with everyone around it and within itself. Kurapika remained more distant and lost in in thought, hardly responding except to nod or reply to a direct question. When they passed the arch again, Leorio’s voice trailed off, and the point he was making was forgotten, crowded out by a more persistent memory.

Kurapika noticed Leorio was beginning to slow down. He felt he knew why, and for a moment didn’t know what to do. He thought if Leorio were to kiss him in that instant where his voice abandoned him and his step slowed, then later, when Kurapika asked him again what he’d said before, Leorio would actually confess to it all.

Kurapika redoubled his pace, passing beneath the arch ahead of Leorio, well out of reach. Leorio had been right the first time. It was easier not to know.

As the moment of tension passed, neither Kurapika nor Leorio said anything. After a few minutes, Leorio started up once more, talking about styles of lamps related to those found in the garden which were still used in his country in the present day. They weren’t common, he said, but they were a traditional choice for decoration. 

Kurapika nodded with every word along attentively, his hands clasped behind him tightly, holding back his feelings while trying to appear relaxed on what was only a pretty, nighttime stroll through a half-lit and glowing night garden from an era the people in its home country had already done all their best to forget.

* * *

“Want to come up?”

Kurapika looked at Leorio like he was joking. Leorio partly was.

“It’s really late…,” said Kurapika, not committing either way. Leorio shrugged and continued to unlock the door into the foyer of Senritsu’s apartment building.

“What’s the time?”

“Look.”

Leorio glanced at the illuminated watch on Kurapika’s wrist. His eyes widened with surprise.

“Is it really 3am already?”

“Sorry if it’s late for you. I lose track of time easily at night.”

“Don’t worry,” said Leorio, waving dismissively as he pushed open the door with his right shoulder. “I can sleep on the train later. No big deal.”

“What time is the train?”

“After four. Four in the afternoon.”

“You should hurry to bed then if you want to sleep a full eight hours.”

“I have a little longer before I absolutely need to sleep. So, like I said before, do you, uh, want to come up or not?”

Kurapika looked away uncertainly in the direction of the street. “Well, the driver….”

“Send him home. You’re the boss. Someone can get you later.”

“Uh…okay. Sure. Give me a second.”

Kurapika stepped away from the doorway alcove and back down the stairs to the pavement. Leorio waited for him, holding the door a quarter of the way open, until he returned. He met Leorio’s eyes with a quick nod as he hopped back up the steps, confirming mutely that the driver would leave. On cue, the car started in the street and pulled out, leaving Kurapika there, on the threshold. Leorio ushered him through the door as he swung it out wide with a splayed hand. They climbed the stairs quickly and carefully, to not disturb the sleeping neighbors, all the way to Senritsu’s apartment. Kurapika hadn’t been ambitious enough to bring his own key, and he stepped back to let Leorio open the last door.

The living room was neater than Kurapika had ever seen it. In the break he’d taken after the Moreau Ball, Leorio had moved all the textbooks and study materials that had migrated to this apartment back to where he lived in his own country. An opened suitcase beside the sofa contained what little was left, as well as a few shopping bags Kurapika recognized as brands Leorio had told him were cheaper in this country than in Leorio’s own. In all, the space felt less like Leorio’s and more like someone else’s. His personal touches were gone, removed without leaving any mark. Leorio had always been incredibly picky about inventorying every last item he owned, so it wasn’t a surprise that he hadn’t missed a thing in moving out.

“Oh yeah, the flowers,” said Leorio, heading straight to the kitchen counter where the modest, verdant arrangement of greenery and a few pale astrolirios stood exploding from a thin, black vase. In their shadow was a long, narrow box, which Leorio took and finally read the tag for. He smiled at his own name, embarrassed for having not seen it before.

“So, it’s ties, right?” asked Leorio as he began to work the knot holding the box shut.

“Yes. You don’t have to open it right this instant. They aren’t amazing. Linsen and Basho helped me decide, since I don’t really have an eye for this kind of stuff.”

“Linsen and Basho were told about this date?”

“No. They thought it was a thank-you present. Linsen said you deserved a lot more than ties, though.”

“That’s because Linsen doesn’t wear ties, so he has no notion of their importance to me.”

“Basho wanted to write a poem about you winning money, but he’s having trouble getting the wording just right.”

“Hey, he might be getting close. I found two thousand jenny in the street yesterday.”

“It was supposed to be more like two hundred thousand.”

“Goddamn I hope he gets it soon.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” said Kurapika. He went to take a seat on a stool at the kitchen bar. He didn’t like the finality of sitting on the couch, where it was more comfortable but at the same time gave the impression that he was planning to stick around for a good while. He couldn't say for sure how long he’d stay here, couldn’t even guess. All he could think about was the last time he’d been in this apartment before meeting with the fishmonger for Light Nostrade. More than anything, he dreaded a repeat of the conversation he and Leorio had had at that time. Perhaps if he avoided making himself too comfortable, it wouldn’t happen.

“Remember the music room?” asked Leorio, feeling a discomfort akin to Kurapika’s own in their current surroundings.

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever seen it?”

Kurapika shrugged. “When would I have? I’ve only been here four times.”

“Do you want to?”

“Um….”

“C’mon.”

Leorio stepped away from the counter, carefully tossing the box of ties into his open suitcase as he passed it on the way to the bedroom. Kurapika heard the sound of a wooden drawer squeaking open and then slamming shut. A moment later, Leorio stepped out, spinning a key on a chain around his index finger. Leorio inclined his head in the direction of the short hall leading to the bathroom and a door Kurapika had never passed through.

Leorio entered first, warning Kurapika to watch his step, since the floor was littered in papers and small objects that had been deposited into this room to put them out of the way. It went without saying that if Kurapika tripped and knocked over an instrument, the outcome would be deafening and potentially catastrophic for the instrument. Kurapika agreed and waited at the door, peeking in as Leorio crossed the room and reached for the tassel of a lamp. It was the twin of the same lamp on the nightstand in the bedroom. Leorio yank three times on the cord sharply before admitting defeat and announcing that the bulb was dead.

“So much for the grand tour,” said Leorio in a low voice in respect of the late hour and the wall this room shared with a neighbor on the same floor. “The light in the ceiling hasn’t been changed in ages because it would require moving all the instruments out of the way to reach it, and Senritsu can’t be bothered. I offered to help her, said that she could just sit on my shoulders, no ladder necessary, but she never found the time. You bodyguards keep yourselves busy.”

“I take it there aren’t any replacement bulbs for the lamp, either.”

“Nope. Just the light from the hall. Come in and take a seat,” said Leorio. He cleared a few books off the piano bench and motioned for Kurapika to approach. “The path to the piano is clear, at any rate. Anything further into the room than this is pretty impossible. I don’t really feel like stumbling around with my phone’s camera light pointed at my feet. The piano will just have to do.”

Kurapika stepped quietly and carefully into the music room, glancing at the cases against the wall and trying to guess what each one might contain. Leorio was telling him about Senritsu’s plan to sell some of her instruments, since she didn’t have time to practice or take care of them all. Her favorites, naturally, were already with her at the Nostrade estate. Kurapika said he’d seen them. He took a seat in the bench alongside Leorio, feeling it might be too close for the two of them to sit there together, since Leorio’s broad-shouldered build dominated most of the available space.

“Do you know any instruments?” asked Leorio as they squinted into the dark room together, Kurapika leaning forward as Leorio inclined back to make room for each other. Kurapika shook his head.

“I don’t,” said Kurapika. “I never had an aptitude for it. I was too impatient as a kid and refused to sit still long enough to learn.”

“That makes sense. You’re certainly always in some kind of rush.”

“My, uh, my father knew a sort of pipe, though,” said Kurapika, unsure why he was sharing this information, and yet feeling oddly detached from it, as though with Leorio saying this sort of thing were ordinary and okay. “It had a lot of pieces,” he continued. “It looked more like a wind-chime than pipes. He was very diligent with practicing and maintaining it in his free time. I remember he played in a technical way, too perfect. I didn’t want to learn it, because he made it look so natural and easy, but it wasn’t, and I childishly thought it was too much work to put so much effort into something that didn’t even look impressive. He took it so seriously, though; but then, he was always very serious and slow about things. He was always cautioning me not to hurry so much.”

“Ah well, when it comes to music, that sort of discipline and patience helps out a lot,” agreed Leorio. Kurapika didn’t respond.

After considering his own thoughts for a minute, Leorio turned around on the bench so that he was facing the piano. Kurapika watched him, surprised and intrigued when Leorio lifted the hefty cover from the piano, revealing the glistening keys and a multitude of knobs and switches. He turned the piano on and began checking that everything had been set to his preferences. Kurapika noted that Leorio was already familiar with this particular model of piano, or else he’d used this exact one before while taking a break from long hours of studying. Knowing Senritsu, she’d likely invited him to do so the moment she’d found out he had some inkling of how to play.

“Check out my skills,” said Leorio, returning to his seat. He hopped up to rummage around a box near the door, and came back bearing headphones and a splitter, which he handed to Kurapika, pointing out where to plug them in.

“Oh yeah, you used to play.”

“Yep. I was really fascinated with piano as a kid. I had a tutor. An old man in my neighborhood. Everyone took lessons from that guy. I think he also taught marimba, but not many people studied that, because no-one owned marimbas to practice on at home.”

“Were you a good student?”

“I was…fine. Not terrible.”

“Do you still remember how to play?”

“Well, it’s impossible to ever truly forget. But, I won’t be great, let me warn you now. I’m rusty. I haven’t really played with any sort of purpose in years. Give me those headphones so I can adjust the sound. You can put yours on, too, if you want.”

Kurapika slipped the bulky, well-padded headphones over his head and adjusted the band at the top until they hung comfortably. They were exactly like the kind Senritsu had given him to use at the Nostrade estate, and blocked out nearly all ambient sound. Far away, more a soft sensation of movement than music, something was already playing. Gradually, the notes grew louder and more distinct as Leorio hit keys with one hand and adjusted knobs with the other. A few times he pulled both hands back and swept them up and down the keyboard, performing little drills to gauge how much the sound increased with the force applied to the keys. Kurapika heard him, as if from a great distance, muttering something about Senritsu having changed everything around.

“Exactly how many years has it been?” asked Kurapika during a quiet moment. His voice filled his head dully, and he slipped one of the headphone speakers back so he could hear himself more clearly. “Your fingers are fast.”

“I’m just doing an exercise to get a feel for the keys. I’m not playing anything exactly.”

“It sounds fine.”

“It’s nothing special. Let’s see how much I remember of this march….”

Leorio’s fingers began to move with greater purpose over the keys, and Kurapika set the headphones back into place to listen. The tune was recognizable, though Kurapika didn’t know the name or who’d composed it. Leorio didn’t play the piece in full, but stopped and went back to the beginning over and over, each time getting faster until his fingers were literally tripping over themselves in their haste to reach the next note. He inevitably arrived the pinnacle of his speed, and the music fell apart into a cacophony of half the necessary notes with none of the adequate time between them. Leorio laughed and stopped, slipping the headphones down to his shoulders while taking a break to stretch and rub his hands.

“What? How?” asked Kurapika in amazement, knowing that he was perhaps easily impressed, but unconcerned with it. He’d never actually watched someone play the piano before, at least not close enough to see their movements. He couldn’t help but grin stupidly, unable to believe it was Leorio of all people creating the sound that he was hearing, and more, that the sound resembled actual music.

“How?” asked Leorio, amused that this had been Kurapika’s first question. “Muscle memory. I used to play the whole entire piece really fast, as like, an amusing trick for people. It’s already pretty quick, so if you can make it faster, people think that’s cool. Everyone likes the novelty of hearing you play something they already know, but in a way that makes it appear as if it’s much more difficult.”

“How long did that take? To learn it?”

“Not so long. I practiced it a lot. There wasn’t much else to do.”

“You must’ve really liked piano.”

“Yeah, I suppose. Hey, grab a book from there and let’s see if I can still read any of it.”

Kurapika turned to the pile of papers and music books next to him that Leorio indicated. Anything mentioning piano, he placed on the bench between them eagerly until Leorio claimed they had enough. Leorio began flipping through a few of them, squinting at the notes in the fuzzy light coming in from the hall. Kurapika took his phone from his pocket and held it up to illuminate the pages better.

“I don’t know what any of this is,” said Kurapika breathlessly as they passed through book after book of sheet music. The one Leorio had out now was fairly thick compared to the others, and sometimes there were words beneath the lines of notes. Beyond that, Kurapika recognized very little. “Do you know any of it?”

“They’re standards. It’s going to be rough reading them in this light, but the pieces themselves are nothing too difficult. That other book series over there, forget it. Those are way more complicated. We’ll be here all week watching me struggling to puzzle that out.”

“Is it hard?”

“Sure, it is now. I’m not at that level anymore.”

“You used to play…” Kurapika squinted at the name, “...this Erva Cossu?”

“Yeah, my mom’s house is full of it.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Playing the Cossu stuff? Well, I guess because I got tired of piano.”

“How could you get tired of piano? It sounds like you really liked it.”

Leorio smiled and shrugged like he didn’t understand it either. He placed the book on the stand, and Kurapika directed a light onto it obediently. After a quick review of the different parts, Leorio started from the top. There were a few places where his fingers hesitated or slipped, but he caught on quicker as he progressed. Gradually, the music began to grow fluid, the mistakes becoming less frequent and yet twice a jarring when they did occur. Leorio sighed after a few minutes and flipped to another song. This one was slower, but sounded as if he’d practiced it before. Kurapika glanced at the title curiously, but it was just a series of numbers and words that meant nothing to him.

The last song Leorio played was much different. It featured elements of a dance Kurapika recognized from when he’d looked up the music styles in Leorio’s home country after hearing Leorio tell Neon he knew how to dance. Despite the tempo intended to get one’s feet moving, the song carried a melancholy aspect Kurapika had heard more often in versions performed on the organetto. The piano had always seemed to go an airy, dignified route, the notes twinkling cheerily with only a touch of mystery to provide depth and interest. The organetto, however, sounded like someone crying with a false face intended to look merry, except the smile never reached their eyes, and the voice, when they couldn’t avoid speaking any longer, emerged hoarse and strangled. Leorio’s version followed closer to this, but with less of a sobbing sensation, because the notes of the piano didn’t vibrate or groan on as dejectedly as those of the organetto reverberating off the stones of a paved alleyway in an internet video.

Kurapika leaned back, away from the keys, to give Leorio room. The unnatural position was beginning to cause a twinge of pain in his abdomen, but it was nothing he couldn’t bear. His hands pressed firmly against the speakers of the headphones, his eager ears waiting for each new, melodic path to follow as his eyes glazed over, staring mesmerized in the direction of piano the keys. He felt the music was trying to carry him away with its resigned, stepping rhythm. He dared not close his eyes, in case it succeeded and he forgot where he was. When the music stopped, the silence followed just as large as the sound had been while filling his ears. He didn’t look away from the keys immediately, but waited for Leorio’s hands to resume their deft motions and segue into something new. When it was clear this wasn’t happening, Kurapika finally stirred. He gave Leorio a questioning look.

“I seem to have brought the general mood down,” said Leorio. “Sorry. In my country, everything upbeat that’s popular is still unhappy or bitter, but at least you can dance to it.”

“I’m not sad. I’m just listening,” said Kurapika. “This stuff doesn’t make me sad.”

“Okay. Then, I’ll try one more, but then we should find something else to do. The sun will be up soon. Maybe we should go watch it from the roof? That seems more of a date activity.”

“This is still the date? I assumed that ended when I came upstairs. I didn’t plan this part out. I just didn’t feel like hurrying home so soon.”

“It’s funny you call three in the morning ‘soon’. We’ve been up all night.”

“You fell asleep in the car on the way here, Leorio.”

“Ah, well, most of the night. No need to split hairs. And three in the morning still doesn’t count as ‘soon’ by anyone’s definition. It’s still practically the middle of the night.”

“I’ve told you my measure of late and early, of sooner and later, is based on hours, not the position of the hands on the clock. For me, this isn’t really ‘staying up’, but rather, it’s like a night shift. I’ll adjust my schedule accordingly when I get back to the estate.”

Leorio made an incredulous sound as he turned to place his hands back over the keys. He nodded to Kurapika to adjust his headphones, and then launched into a surprisingly energetic piece Kurapika didn’t know, but recognized as being in the style of Leorio’s home country again. The tune was jaunty, though still dramatic and obviously intended to be danceable. After the introduction, Leorio began to mouth along some words, occasionally murmuring the lower pitched lines audibly, but off-tune. When Kurapika looked over, interested to discover that this song had lyrics, Leorio shook his head and grinned at him, but didn’t stop playing. What little Kurapika caught of Leorio’s whispering, he didn’t understand at all, except for what he thought might be the word for “streetlight”. This made more sense once the theatrical and more heartfelt chorus arrived mentioning something about nighttime darkness and then asking an indecipherable question to the moon three times in a row.

“I don’t understand why you got tired of piano,” said Kurapika when the song was over. Since this one had had words, it’d ended after a few verses and repeated choruses, making it feel like the shortest song yet. “Did your parents force you to play against your will? Was it the kind of situation where you secretly hated it, so then, as soon as you were able, you stopped?”

“I never disliked it. I just don’t care now.”

“How could you get bored with something you clearly were good at? I know it’s a lot of work and study to learn something like a musical instrument. You had to have cared a lot. So, how could you just suddenly change your mind and stop?”

“Well, for starters, I didn’t just wake up one day and suddenly stop playing. I stopped _studying_ , and then playing petered off from there. It’s normal. I was still always the kid called out in music class to play an accompaniment for singing lessons and stuff, which was nice because I hate singing. My friends were always trying to form bands to get rich and famous and would ask me to play the keyboard for them, so I played at festivals and stuff, too. I was pretty popular at school. Girls liked me. I earned some money and spent it on clothes and cool glasses. For teenage me, it was perfect.”

“Ah, I see. I should’ve guessed. You stopped because of your friend, right? The one that was sick?”

“No. No, I stopped before all of that.”

“Then _why_ —”

“Hey, we should head upstairs soon. It’s past five now. The sun’s gonna start rising.”

Leorio removed his headphones and turned the piano off. He told Kurapika to put the headphones and music books away while he set the cover carefully over the piano’s control panel and keys. After everything was set right once more, he stepped out of the room with Kurapika and locked the door behind them. He put the music room key away and took the ones for the apartment off the counter. A few minutes later they were on the roof in the dark, illuminating their way to the railing with their phones’ lights directed at the their feet.

“Remember to keep quiet; there’s people asleep in all the buildings around us.”

“I know,” said Kurapika tersely, insulted that Leorio had even thought it pertinent to remind him of this.

“Also, full disclosure, I don’t remember how long a sunrise takes, so bear with me if it takes a while.”

“It definitely shouldn’t take a full hour,” said Kurapika. “So don’t worry. And look. There’s even a little light over there already.”

Kurapika and Leorio leaned against the railing, staring off into the direction of the dawn’s glow as they waited to see what notable changes would occur in the sky as the sun ascended over the hills that surrounded the city.

“You said a sunrise was more final than a sunset because the day starts, and people have stuff to do,” said Kurapika thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense. Today I’ll go back to work, and you’ll go back to school, and that’ll be it.”

“Yep,” said Leorio. “That’ll be it.”

Kurapika brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, feeling like it was too dry up on the roof, too windy. His eyes were starting to water.

“I wonder…” said Kurapika softly to himself, not completing the sentence. The sky inched ever closer towards the pale, faded blue of dawn. Leorio shifted where he stood.

“You wonder?” he asked.

“There was a book that was really important to me when I was growing up. It was a collection of tales about a Hunter named Hunter D.”

“Ah yes, the veritable Casanova you quoted at that girl who liked you. Your inspiration.”

“Okay, so, not in regards to that, but in other stuff, yeah, you’re absolutely right about that character being my inspiration,” said Kurapika, feeling defensive on behalf of Hunter D. “Anyway, as I probably already mentioned, Hunter D has to leave behind a girl he’s in love with because her presence isn’t compatible with his lifestyle. He chooses being a Hunter over happiness in love, because that’s the kind of dedicated Hunter he is. Everything else comes second.”

“You weren’t kidding about the guy inspiring you then.”

“I’ve been thinking about that story a lot lately. I’ve always understood why he made his choice, but I’ve recently been struggling to understand _how_.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…how could he leave her if he felt like…that? And how can you leave someone who feels the same way back?

Leorio shrugged. “Because there was something he wanted more. There’s always something a Hunter wants more. You know that.”

“I see now what a difficult choice that was. When I was a kid, I only saw how sad it was. Now, however, I guess I can relate.”

“Hey,” warned Leorio, making the connection, “I’m not some pretty girl who’s going to cry for you, Hunter Kurapika D. Don’t make me out to be the jilted one here. I’m a Hunter, too.”

Kurapika ignored this comment. “I wonder what happened to her,” he said, still watching the horizon. “I wonder what she did. In the book it said Hunter D never saw her again.”

“She probably moved on and married a prince or something. Typical fair maiden stuff.”

“Perhaps. It’s never mentioned in the story. They don’t even give her a name. She’s just the girl in love with Hunter D, so it gives the impression that Hunter D was the only important thing about her. How was she able to let go of someone who was literally the only thing about her that mattered?”

Leorio chuckled. “Yeah. Well, the book wasn’t about her, was it?” he pointed out obviously. “Anyway, I guess the important lesson is that when you care too much, you give the people you love what they want, even when you know better. Even when a part of you doesn’t want the same. At the end of the day, and it doesn’t matter if they never see how much it hurts or affects you, since the whole rest of the book goes on without you. It’s not fair. But then again, failing in love with someone you will only ever have in imperfect understanding of is rarely fair. ”

“I suppose. But it’s so odd to think that someone can just totally disappear from a person’s life like that. As far as the book implied, he never even visited her country again.”

“Ah, well...I guess it just sometimes happens like that.”

Leorio reached into his pocket automatically, feeling for a pack of cigarettes that wasn’t there. Kurapika noticed he’d stopped carrying them them after he'd told him to stop smoking. He wondered if Leorio had ended it for good. Judging by his habit to reach for them now, as he had so frequently during their practice dates, it was clear he still hadn’t fully adjusted to the change.

“Here,” said Kurapika, reaching into his own pocket and offering Leorio a menthol candy. “They say mint helps you focus, especially when you study, so I have these. It’s really strong, though. You can take it.”

Leorio accepted and thanked him, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth without hesitation. He winced and crinkled his nose as the flavor struck and the minty fumes filled his sinuses. He made a face like he supposed this was the point, wasn’t it? A sudden attack of mint flavor would shock anyone awake.

The two watched the sunrise in appreciative silence until the unmistakable arrival of morning. From below came signs of the city waking. The cars on the road increased, and along with them came the sounds of traffic and the rolling book bags of students on the way to the bus stop at the corner.  The hard candy clicked between Leorio’s teeth as he rotated it around his mouth to distribute its numbing sensation evenly.

“Hey,” said Leorio at last. “Do you really want to know why I quit piano?”

“Yes.”

“Great,” said Leorio, pushing off from the railing at the same time to stand straight. “I’ll tell you next time we meet up, then.”

“What?”

“Next time I see you, I’ll tell you all about it. It’s not a very dramatic story, and I wouldn’t say it haunts me or anything like that. Since it’s so insignificant, it can definitely wait. So, until next time.”

“Leorio, I’m not stupid. I see what you’re trying to do.”

Leorio shrugged as he turned back to the door leading to the stairwell.

“You mean create a pretense of something to look forward to next time we meet? Because we’re friends, and friends hang out and make time for each other—especially whenever they’re in town at the same time and have some time off work? …Is that what I’m perhaps doing?”

“Leorio….”

“Forget it, Kurapika,” said Leorio. He placed a hand on Kurapika’s shoulder after Kurapika caught up, and began patting it along as he spoke for emphasis. “You can’t give me the Hunter D treatment here, reciting lines about your life’s journey, then you fuck off, and I don’t come up again for the rest of the book. I’m a Hunter, for heaven’s sake, not a crying damsel without a name. You won’t be rid of me so easily. Give up and just give me your email address so we’re in touch.”

“Not a chance. You’ll never leave me alone.”

“What? That’s not fair. We’re friends.”

“You’re a Hunter. You said it yourself,” said Kurapika. He stepped out of reach, continuing on ahead and calling over his shoulder, “Hunt me down if you need me.”

“W-what?” stammered Leorio. “You’re going to cut off such a valuable resource as me? Is that even _wise_? I could have really great connections one day as the world’s greatest Hunter Doctor, you know? You’re gonna need me a lot more once I’m rich and powerful.”

“If you manage to stumble across anything helpful to me or pertinent to what I’m seeking, I’m confident you’ll be the one to find me first thing.”

“Yeah right. How can you be so confident I’m gonna give a shit with that smug attitude of yours? Who do you think I am?”

Kurapika just flashed a patronizing smile at Leorio and shoved open the stuck roof door. He hopped down the stairs lightly with Leorio thudding much louder behind him, complaining that Kurapika’s attitude was going to get him in trouble, and Leorio wasn’t going to be around to help him. As they went down the stairs, past the floor of Senritsu’s apartment, Leorio offered the story of why he quit piano in exchange for Kurapika’s email instead. Kurapika said it wasn’t enough, and really, Leorio didn’t need the email address that badly. Hunters hunted. Leorio should stop being lazy and embrace the true Hunter lifestyle.

Leorio waited along with Kurapika in the street for the driver coming to pick Kurapika up. He grumbled to himself all the while, but had resolved not to leave Kurapika’s side until absolutely necessary, even if it seemed Kurapika was already growing more and more distant by the minute, closing himself off in preparation for a departure that would result in an absence of indeterminate length. Only as the last few minutes of waiting arrived did Leorio gradually soften his sour expression. He rested an arm on Kurapika’s shoulders with easy familiarity, though Kurapika expected Leorio would meet his eyes when he looked up. He was surprised when he was proven wrong.

“Take care, Kurapika. Sincerely. I know you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, but just…don’t stupid. You’re not Hunter D who leaves some crying girl behind and never looks back. That was the wrong thing to do, and you know it. You’re better than that. You’ll make the right choice. You won’t forget the people who care about you. Right?”

“Of course not,” said Kurapika, but looked away. He brushed Leorio’s hand off as he lifted it to ruffle his hair. He pushed Leorio’s arm from his shoulders next and took a small step away, feigning as though he were looking up and down the street for the car.

“I don’t forget,” said Kurapika seriously as he turned back to Leorio. “I never forget. I won’t.”

Leorio smiled and accepted this as the best he would get. Kurapika refused to look him in the eye until the car had arrived and he was sitting in the back seat, looking through a window at Leorio standing alone on the pavement, hunched over in order to catch every last glimpse of Kurapika until he was gone. Kurapika barely smiled and waved weakly, feeling silly and false. He was suddenly finding it extremely difficult to keep up a brave face, but Leorio just smiled wider, warm as ever, and waved energetically in return. Knowing Leorio, Leorio likely continued to wave as the car pulled away down the street, though Kurapika had already stopped watching. Kurapika kept his eyes focused ahead, out the front window. Linsen, driving, looked up to him through the rearview mirror.

“You still have the 9pm meeting with the Ritz clan security officer at the estate office. Will you be ready by then, or should I deal with it? They were kind of persistent about meeting with you in particular, but I’m fine with going in your place. I know the contract already.”

“No, it’s okay; I’ll go,” said Kurapika, assuming a more businesslike manner. “There’s a lot to get done, and I don’t want to start disappointing clients sosoon. Have something clean to wear sent to the office. I’ll change in the staff bathroom.”

Linsen nodded and took up his phone to make the call. Before dialing, he glanced up one more time and hesitated. Kurapika waited.

“No offense, Kurapika, but you look rough. Or well, rougher than usual. Are you sure you want to get right back to work so quickly? Like I said, I can go and—”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” insisted Kurapika sternly. He frowned at Linsen watching him. “As for my face looking however it looks to you…you’ll all have to get used to it. I don’t think it’s going to change much from now on.”

Linsen nodded solemnly and once more lifted the phone to his ear. Kurapika leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts on the meeting, the details of the security contract, and all the work he had left to do when he got back. As expected, but as unwanted as ever, his mind wandered elsewhere. He half dreamed piano keys gleaming in the dark and a stupid smile that never seemed totally honest. He felt the warm weight of an arm around his shoulders, long fingers weaving through his hair and catching on invisible knots, and the pressure of a kiss with his eyes squeezed shut, filling him so fully with the sensation of another’s lips against his own that the world itself soon stopped, and Kurapika himself ceased to exist.

Kurapika sighed as he stirred from the daydream. He didn’t want Linsen to ask if he was okay, so he stared out the window for the rest of the drive as the images and sensations played in a loop behind his eyes, trapped in his mind and fueling the ache in his chest that turned to sickness in his stomach. How much time and how much distance would it take from now, he wondered. In books, people always wrote about love without end. Maybe in this case….

Kurapika shook his head hard like this would knock the thoughts loose, and they’d fall out his ears. He had no such luck. The thoughts continued to resurface in quiet moments throughout the day and over the days and restless nights that followed. Relief only arrived with the next set of Scarlet Eyes that entered Kurapika sights, sending everything else from his mind as he began his meticulous preparations for yet another acquisition that would bring him ever closer to the cumulation of his goal, his dream, his mission that came before all else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user [stxrmblxssed](https://stxrmblxssed.tumblr.com) drew [some fanart of the sunrise scene of this chapter.](https://stxrmblxssed.tumblr.com/post/163465576304/i-meanhow-could-he-leave-her-if-he) Check it out, it's a nice bookend for the other fanart of the earlier sunset scene.
> 
> ###### FINAL NOTE:
> 
> That's it. That's the fic. I don't even feel greedy inviting you all the leave a comment if you liked this fic. Look at that word count. If you have a minute, please encourage me to keep writing by telling me real quick that you've appreciated my work. Even tell me you hated the ending and thought I would do so much better. I don't really mind. Maybe I'll even agree with that....
> 
>  **Finally, if anyone is curious about details for a fic the size of a book like this [I for one like to know this stuff if I stumble on a fic years after it's posted, so maybe some of you are like me]:**  
>  \- It took me an afternoon to plot this fic, though I diverged considerably from the initial plot around the confession scene due to time constraints. Basically the Moreau Ball featured more of an action sequence similar to how Kurapika steals a set of eyes in my other fic [Preserved in Jars](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8221216/chapters/18841942>).  
> \- It took me three and a half months with generous breaks (lol by breaks I mean like a week or so here and there dragging my feet because writing romantic moments and kissing and stuff is really embarrassing) to write it up to about chapter 25 or so.  
> \- The final chapters I dragged out like a month and a half because I hate ending stuff, and also to write a proper ending you kinda have to reread the entire fic and ironically, I am a slow and reluctant reader.  
> \- I should note that I usually only work on one fic at a time. It's faster for me that way, and it also helps to keep everything more consistent.  
> \- My main goal in this fic project was to force myself to write something more romantic. If you readers have a critique on how I did, let me know. In that same vein, feel free to tell me what worked in this fic and what didn't in general, too. I considered writing this fic to be something silly and fun, but it was also an exercise for me, so you won't break my heart if you don't like some parts of it. The project is over now, so the only thing left is to reflect on all I've learned and carry it on to the next project.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this silly thing I wrote for you. Until some other day and some other fic.... Ciao ciao!


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